The Point is Probably Moot
by jespah
Summary: In August of 3110, the 1981 assassination of Anwar Sadat and the 2192 Mirror Universe are but pawns in a chess game being played by the Temporal Integrity Commission's enemies.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

 _Jessie is a friend_

 _Yeah I know he's been a good friend of mine_

 _But lately something's changed, that ain't hard to define_

 _Jessie's got himself a girl, and I wanna make her mine_

\- Rick Springfield (Jessie's Girl)

=/\=

 **The Empress Hoshi Sato stood up and stretched. The** _ **Defiant**_ **was still a kickin' ship, and she was still the most desirable woman in the Empire – hell, the galaxy! Perhaps even the universe. She smiled to herself. She and the** _ **Defiant**_ **had been through a number of campaigns together, over the course of three and a half decades. A little paint – in her case, makeup – and no one would see the seams, the threadbare bits, and the sagging parts.**

" **Andrew!" she called from inside the little bathroom in her quarters. "Let's take a shower together."**

 **There was no answer. "Andrew!** _ **Andrew**_ **!" She walked into the bedroom. "Sheesh, Andrew, ya lazy bum!** _ **Get up**_ **!"**

 **He was just lying there in the bed. She shoved him, and his body flopped over to the side. He was dead, a capsule stuck between his teeth. There was a PADD in his hands. There was an open message on it. It simply said, "** _ **MM, I'll be with you soon, my love**_ **."**

" **MM?" she asked no one. She performed a quick search for all female** _ **Defiant**_ **personnel for the past thirty-seven years, ever since she had seized that ship, on January fifteenth of 2155, and then narrowed the search down to only include crew members with the initials** _ **MM**_ **.**

 **There was one name: Melissa Madden, dead on September twelfth of 2166, a victim of a shuttle crash on Vulcan. The autopsy report had said she was pregnant. Hoshi had figured the girl had been pregnant by someone like Chief Engineer Frank Ramirez. But no – it was now obvious – the father had been Hoshi's lover, the corpse that lay in front of her – Andrew Miller.**

 **She shrugged. She typed a few lines to change Andrew's suicide note.**

 **And now it read:** _ **I love you, Hoshi**_ **.**

 **Satisfied with the revision, she clicked open her personal Communicator. "Ramirez, Miller is dead. You're now the First Officer."**

" **Yes, Empress."  
**

" **You also get bed privileges."**

" **Yes, Empress."**

" **But I'll be looking for another. I've never much cared for your performance. I keep you around because you're a decent engineer. Do you understand?"**

" **Yes, of course." There was no disappointment in his voice. He had served her long enough to know that the engineering job was a far better one – with a considerably more stable future – than the job of being the Empress's primary bedmate. He'd been clever over the years. Any time she'd tapped him for bedroom services, he had made sure to perform poorly. After a while, she had essentially given up on him. His promotion to First Officer - unlike the one that Andrew had gotten, or Travis Mayweather before him – was due to his performance** _ **with**_ **his clothes on.**

=/\=

In 3110, on August eighth, nearly nine hundred and twenty years later, a Temporal Agent sat at his desk. He tapped his left ear, two times, to engage a tiny Communicator that was permanently implanted behind his left ear. "I'd like to speak with Tina April, on Triton."

"Speaking," there was a pause, "Richard Daniels! To what do I owe this call?"

"I just wanted to know how you were doing."

"Bull. You got dumped by someone."

"Nope. I just, I wanted to make sure you were okay," he said. That was only partly true.

The true part was that he hadn't been dumped at all. But he _had_ met someone. The problem was that she was not of his time period. She wasn't even of the Empress Hoshi Sato's time period. No.

Rather, Milena Chelenska was born in 1928. And she had died in 1969. Richard Daniels – Rick – didn't know many of the details. But 1969 Prague didn't have even one one-hundredth of the technological advances in medicine that a person such as himself – born in 3069 – had access to.

He was obsessed with finding out about the details of the last year of her life, for he had met her a little less than a year before her untimely demise and that period was one large gap for him. It was part morbid fascination, part barely requited longing. She was, as they say, _the one that got away_.

And he was contacting Tina – an ex – in part to find out how she was, but also to assure himself that, even if he hadn't loved her, he was at least capable of some degree of feeling with a woman other than Milena. Maybe Tina would take him back – more likely, she wouldn't – but she was at least something of a safe harbor for him.

"I said – _are you paying attention, Rick?_ – I am _fine_ ," Tina said, "Troy and I are going to dinner tonight."

"Oh, I see," Rick said. Troy was his replacement in Tina's affections.

"You," she changed her tune a little bit, "you sound a bit depressed."

"Me?"

"Yeah, _you_. Richard, I know you."

"Yes, you do." This was another reason why he had contacted her.

"And it's just, you're not normally like this. Maybe you should talk to someone."

"Naah, I'll be fine. Look, um, maybe we can have lunch some time."

"I dunno."

"Bring Troy along," he said, although that was the last thing he would have wanted.

"I don't think so," she said, "look, I'm your sister, Eleanor's friend. So we are bound to run into each other on occasion. But I think maybe, Rick, you need to stop initiating these calls."

"I've only called you twice since we've broken up."

"I know. And I appreciate your restraint," she said, "I just think, now, that maybe you need to execute a bit more."

"I –"

" _Good-bye_ , Richard."

=/\=

His sister, Eleanor – Tina's friend – was in much better shape than Rick was, at least emotionally. Her time was taken up with her beau, one Thomas Grant. Grant was also a professional time traveler, working with Rick at the Temporal Integrity Commission.

Whenever Rick was depressed or upset, he generally sought comfort in the arms of the women he met during his missions to the past. Those missions, recently, had been to repair timelines that had become battered by a rival faction that was skipping through time, trying to improve it for its own purposes – that group called itself the _Perfectionists_.

But ever since Rick had met Milena, the idea of hooking up with hotties from the past had paled. That was why he was calling Tina – he had realized that he wanted some meaning in his life. Until Milena, the closest he'd ever come to that was Tina. And so he had sought her out.

For Tom, though, life was different, as his comforts came from Eleanor, who was of their time period. He had no interest in honeys from the past, alluring in hoop skirts or mini dresses or uniforms from the _NX-01_ and other ancient ships. He was happy, he was satisfied, and he was beginning to think about how to pop the question. A hookup was unthinkable.

As for Rick, there was one major consequence to all of the hookups. There had been one unplanned pregnancy, but it was a doozy. It was in the mirror universe – the other side of the proverbial pond – and it had been in 2156. He had been sent to repair the timeline by performing a few repairs on an advanced star ship. His repairs were deemed more than satisfactory, and so he was rewarded, and not with funds. No, he was given far earthier compensation – his payment was bedroom time with that ship's captain.

She just so happened to be the Empress Hoshi Sato.

Two gametes met, and their son, Jun, was conceived.

And then the dance had _really_ begun, for the creation of Jun was a major temporal paradox. In order to prevent Jun from fathering, perhaps, his own grandfather, the mirror universe Terran government had originally demanded that he be killed, or never conceived in the first place.

For Rick, it was the first inkling of a conscience. He cared enough about Jun to want the boy to live.

Rick had enlisted the help of his boss, Admiral Carmen Calavicci. Together, they had crafted a plan to allow for Jun's existence. First, the boy was sterilized. Then, his next youngest half-brother, Kira, was shored up and made more important. Jun was the first-born, but Kira _should_ have been. There were four other children, but only those two were destined to lead.

Then, as a final concession to the Terran government, it was agreed to let the Empress think that Rick had died, on May the twelfth of 2157, in a shuttle crash on Daranaea, a planet of fox-faced aliens. Rick was forbidden from returning to the mirror universe at any time during Hoshi's long life, even before Jun's conception and even during the last moments just before Hoshi's death in 2245. It was harsh, but at least Jun could live.

The Terran government congratulated itself on its magnanimity.

=/\=

 **The Empress knew little of this. She only knew – well, she** _ **thought**_ **she knew – that Richard Daniels, the man she had called Ritchie, was dead, only about six months after her eldest was born. She had shrugged at the time, showing everyone that a dalliance with a known time traveler was not good for a long-term relationship, although inwardly she had, she had to admit, been a bit affected.**

 **She had had the baby, for she wanted to assure the succession. Jun – the name meant** _ **truthful**_ **– was not meant to be the only one. Instead, her plan was to have as many as possible, but all from different fathers. She kept the upper-level men on the** _ **Defiant**_ **in line by giving them bed privileges, and sealed the deal via conception.**

 **Kira –** _ **dark**_ **– the next in line – was the son of Aidan MacKenzie. Aidan had been a secondary Tactical Officer until his disgrace in 2157. He was busted to the rank of babysitter, for the Empress would never stoop so low as to wipe a pabulum-soiled face or change a dirty diaper.**

 **Next were twins, Takara – the only girl – and Takeo –** _ **treasure**_ **and** _ **warrior**_ **. Their father was the replacement Tactical Officer, Chip Masterson. But he had fallen in love with the Science Officer, Lucy Stone, and they had devised a plan to escape the** _ **Defiant**_ **. On February sixth of 2161, they had taken the twins and gotten to the surface of a planet called Lafa II. The Empress considered them all to be dead, although she was mistaken in that area.**

 **Fifth-born was Arashi. At the time of his conception, she was bedding both Security Specialist José Torres and Chief Engineer Francisco Ramirez. Frank Ramirez had proven to be a lousy lover and so she'd concentrated on Torres. Arashi – his name meant** _ **storm**_ **– soon followed.**

 **Rounding out the set was Izo –** _ **iron**_ **– the son of Pilot and, at the time, First Officer Travis Mayweather.**

 **She had wanted more, but Mayweather and Torres were both killed in February of 2161, a part of how Masterson and Stone had departed. She was left with MacKenzie and Ramirez in the inner circle, and so she had recruited Andrew, and he had served her well for a good thirty years. She had wanted a child with him but, unbeknownst to her, he had taken the birth control shot. He had wanted a child with Melissa Madden, but not with her.**

 **She was past the age of having any more unless there was some pretty serious medical intervention. She did not trust surrogates or test tubes, and preferred the old-fashioned way of doing things anyway. But she knew that ship had sailed.**

 **There were her four sons – they would have to be enough to assure the succession. They were all in their thirties. Kira and Izo had even married. But so far, there were no grandchildren, although she was unsure about how she'd feel about someone referring to her as their Oba-asan. And she still needed a lover, for she felt that was a necessity in her life.**

 **The men on the** _ **Defiant**_ **all knew her. Hell, everyone in the Empire knew her. She was bored and restless – Andrew had been boring her for a while, but he had been dependable, and he had been** _ **there**_ **. And now he was no longer there.**

 **She wondered just where her next conquest would come from, never expecting that he would come from the other side of the pond, or from a good nine hundred years later.**

=/\=

 _And she's watchin' him with those eyes_

 _And she's lovin' him with that body, I just know it_

 _And he's holdin' her in his arms, late, late at night_

\- Rick Springfield (Jessie's Girl)


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 _You know I wish that I had Jessie's girl_

 _I wish that I had Jessie's girl_

 _Where can I find a woman like that?_

\- Rick Springfield (Jessie's Girl)

=/\=

The Perfectionists were a loosely confederated conspiracy. Most of the members not only didn't know who was a member of the organization, they didn't even know how many people were in on the conspiracy.

The idea was to change the past, and for the better. History could be confusing, crazy-making, unfair and downright cruel. So many lives were, as Thomas Hobbes had said, " _nasty, brutish and short_."

The Perfectionists aimed to change all of that.

They were starting with a very specific time period, which was rife with possibilities. That time period stretched from the October fourth 1957 launch of _Sputnik_ to the April fifth 2063 launch of Earth's first Warp One vessel, the _Phoenix_. It was the very first epoch of the Space Age.

The Perfectionists' leader, a man named Milton Walker, had chosen this time period because of its many pariotric nodes. Temporal changes could be roughly divided into megaotric – too big for humans to effect; otric – too small to matter; and pariotric – the Goldilocks middle where a meaningful change _could_ be effected by people.

The overall aim was to improve human life, and really only on _our_ side of the pond. Milton, like anyone who had been through the standard history curriculum, knew all about the legendary Empress Hoshi Sato. But the mirror universe had not been of concern to him.

Instead, he had poured his efforts into acts such as trying to prevent the 1995 Oklahoma City bombing. He had his own temporal operatives to do his bidding.

There was his daughter, Helen, who treated time travel and temporal changes as larks. Her death had been faked – all the better to let her do her work.

There was Donald Oliver, who performed all manner of odd jobs – everything from snapping a few blackmail photographs featuring Helen – to murdering an uncooperative agent. He could be counted on to keep quiet.

Then there were operatives who had infiltrated the Temporal Integrity Commission itself. There was Marisol Castillo, who was a time traveling doctor and, until recently, had been carrying on with the only married member of the Commission's Human Unit, Doctor Boris Yarin.

Marisol had a lot over Boris, and he was terrified of being exposed as he felt he would surely lose his position. Marisol hadn't quite gotten around to blackmailing him just yet, but she _was_ having a dandy time scaring him. He was human, Xindi sloth and Klingon – his natural condition was paranoia. All she had to do was kick that up several notches.

Another mole was Daniel Beauchaine. He had recently joined the Commission. His life was rather complicated, as he had been a Section 31 operative for the better part of thirty years. As a member of that shadowy organization, his assignment had been to infiltrate the Perfectionists. He had done so in a matter that was so thorough that his sympathies had shifted, and he had ended up convinced that their cause was right. The Section thought that he was still loyal to them, and they had urged the Commission to hire him in order to, ostensibly, watch the Perfectionists. Not even his friend, Tom Grant, knew the extent of Dan's perfidy.

There were others, of course, including an engineer who had developed a most interesting device. The Temporal Enzymatic Drive was a two-part system whereby an operative could time travel without the use of either a time ship or a time portal.

A subject would swallow a dose of a substance called trichronium. Then a few keys on a cuff-like device called a Temporal Enhancer would whisk that person to any time or place, but only within the universe that the time traveler was in. It was a useful bit of technology for an organization as secret as the Perfectionists.

They – or, rather, Milton – had had as a base of operations a near-perfect hideout. It was practically under the Temporal Integrity Commission's very noses, for it was on a ship, as was the Commission. The Commission was on a ship called the _USS Adrenaline_. The _Adrenaline_ patrolled the space just outside the galactic barrier. And just within the galactic barrier, and usually within the Berren System, was a ship called the _USS Saint Eligius_.

Milton had been a member of the Eligian Order. Eligius was the patron saint of all sorts of odd personages – including watch makers and clock makers. Essentially, he was as close to a patron saint of time as anyone could get. This was the ideal front for the Perfectionists.

As a member of the Order, one requirement was that its members never touch a woman, not even by accident. But Milton – who scarcely cared for the Eligian Order, except insofar as they could help him and his righteous cause – missed the female of the species. He had been married, and then divorced. Getting back together with Enid was out of the question, and he had even joined the Order, in part, to get her off his back.

He had no interest in females of any other species, unlike a lot of the men of the time. When it came to the whole idea of beauty being a relative thing, he wasn't buying it. Instead, he wanted a human woman – but someone with strength. He enjoyed a little roughing up, and a little submission – on his part, not the woman's. But it had been quite a while since he had been in the hunt.

=/\=

In his office at the Temporal Integrity Commission, Daniel Beauchaine searched for meaning. He had had to put back the events of April sixteenth through nineteenth of 1995. Those were the events leading up to, and including, the Oklahoma City bombing.

And then, fool that he was, he had insisted on witnessing the collapse of the Alfred P. Murrah Building. Tom had been with him at the time. Rick was also on that mission, but he had been elsewhere – Prague, checking on Milena's death certificate, truth be told – and had not witnessed the devastation firsthand.

Tom had Eleanor to confide in, and to comfort him, and assure him that he was doing the right thing, all told. And he had seized the opportunity, for he felt so very close to her, to tell that he loved her. She had responded in kind. That had been a few months previously, and things had only gotten better between the two of them, and they had only gotten closer. She was seriously considering giving him a cuff bracelet that she wore, a family heirloom that she was supposed to only give to her true love. No wonder he was thinking about proposing.

But Dan had no such comforter or champion or confessor. He kept to himself, and rolled the events of the nineteenth over and over in his mind. He had originally been sent by the Perfectionists to prevent the bombing. And he had done so.

But the consequences were personally devastating, for his own family was wiped from existence. Dan, protected by a temporal force field, was immune. But the remainder of the Beauchaine clan had become as fictitious as Atlantis.

This messed with his head enough that he knew he had to put everything back. He also had to do so in order to maintain his position nestled within the Temporal Integrity Commission, for they would have found him out immediately if he had done anything to counter the Commission's stated mission to put the bombing back the way it had originally unfolded. It disgusted him that nearly twenty children had to die, but he was relieved that his parents and extended family had returned to the realm of existence.

This was doing a number on him, and he was becoming even more depressed than Rick.

=/\=

Rick had, on his PADD, a number of photographs he had taken in the Prague City Hall. He had gone there in 1995 – a little side trip from the Oklahoma City mission – and had looked up Milena's death record.

It was, of course, in Czech. The pictures were not the best – he had had to snap them quickly, while the clerk was busy elsewhere. Explaining a PADD to someone who had never even seen a cell phone was not the kind of potentially pariotric event he wanted to take responsibility for.

The date of death was July the twentieth of 1969. Rick knew this date just as surely as he knew July fourth of 1776. It was the date that Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin had landed on the moon. There was a phrase listed on the form, in the section dedicated to the cause of death. It seemed an impenetrable phrase: _rakovinu vaječníků_. He right-clicked in order to have the phrase translated into Federation Standard. It meant _ovarian cancer_.

He buried his head in his hands. "I know you must have had a lot of pain. How I wish I could have done something."

=/\=

 _I'll play along with the charade_

 _There doesn't seem to be a reason to change_

 _You know I feel so dirty when they start talkin' cute_

 _I wanna tell her that I love her but the point is probably moot_

\- Rick Springfield (Jessie's Girl)


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 _'Cause she's watchin' him with those eyes_

 _And she's lovin' him with that body, I just know it_

 _And he's holdin' her in his arms, late, late at night_

\- Rick Springfield (Jessie's Girl)

=/\=

The Temporal Integrity Commission was composed of several species-specific units. There were Klingons, Aenar, Cardassians, Bajorans, Trill, Calafans from both our universe and the mirror, Tandarans, Vissians, Daranaeans, Breen, Remans, Kazon, Suliban, Witannen and all sorts of others, representing seemingly countless Milky Way worlds.

All of the Warp-capable worlds in the galaxy were members of the Federation, and they all had a presence at the Temporal Integrity Commission. That is to say, all but one species was so accounted for, if you could call them that – the Borg.

They were still a bit of a thorn in the Federation's side, but they mainly stayed in the Delta Quadrant. The only times the Commission really had to deal with them was when they would, on occasion, attempt to go back in time in order to change outcomes for their own purposes. Fortunately, they did not do this too frequently.

The Human Unit was one of the larger units. There had been several scholarly trips to observe events in Earth and Terra's near-twin pasts, and those travelers always needed to have escorts. This was the original purpose behind the Commission.

Then the Perfectionists had come, and the Human Unit needed even more people to handle and undo the various changes. These were, inevitably, a threat to the eventual timeline.

In addition to Carmen, Rick, Tom, Dan, Marisol and Boris, there were Crystal Sherwood, Otra D'Angelo, Levi Cavendish, Sheilagh Bernstein, HD Avery, Polly Porter, Deirdre Katzman and Kevin O'Connor.

Crystal was the department's Quartermaster, responsible for making sure that travelers blended in and didn't have too many anachronisms with them, except for necessary equipment. Time travelers had a number of personal physical modifications and improvements – such as implanted Communicators – in order to reduce the amount of hardware that they had to haul around.

Otra was a half-human, half-Witannen and, as such, was rather rare. Because she was half and half, she didn't have Witannen vestigial wings, but she did have their other main characteristic – _chavecoi_ , which looked like a bouquet of flowers. And they were sprouting from her scalp.

Aside from the chavecoi, which were symbiotic hitchhikers on her body, Otra had a far more interesting trait. She could see temporal alternatives, and was still faster than the enhanced computers. She saw them as visions, almost like a prophetess. Her talent had made her a target, and she had even been kidnapped by the Perfectionists and kept on the _USS Saint Eligius._ She had been sprung, though, and now had a companion to, well, not necessarily to keep her from being snatched again, but at least to assure that there would be a witness if it happened again.

Her companion was Levi, one of the engineers. He was afflicted with adult ADHD and Asperger's and, as such, was often distracted. He wasn't meant to be the greatest bodyguard. He was just meant to be nearby. He also cared for her – she was one of the few people on his radar at all – and so he could be counted on to be somewhat dedicated to her remaining either on board the _USS Adrenaline_ or at her home on Earth, in Siena.

Sheilagh was a time traveler, specializing in ancient computers and their systems. HD was also a traveler, but his specialty was music and art and general hipster kinds of things. Polly rounded out the traveling contingent. She had a psychology background and was dedicated to being a calming, convincing influence as needed.

The last two were engineers. Deirdre was Kevin's protégée. She generally left work as soon as possible, for she had a hot relationship and was forever rushing off to be with Bruce Ishikawa.

As for Kevin, he had been turned upside down at the very end of 3108 when his wife, Josie, had died, a victim of the awful disease Piaris Syndrome. Josie – her name was actually Jhasi, and she had been Aenar – had been his reason for living. It had been quite a wallop, even to a man who was not just human.

Kevin was also Gorn. An appreciable chunk of his makeup was reptilian. While his face was human, and he had hair on his head – greyish white now, as he was in his seventies – his chest, arms and legs had scales. But a pair of long pants and a long-sleeved shirt could make him appear human. So attired, the only odd thing about him was his size. He weighed nearly a quarter of a metric ton.

But his size and his part-Gorn parentage belied a gentle nature. He was the most likely, out of the entire department, to stop and smell the roses or cry at a wedding. Josie's death had made that even more pronounced. He was a sensitive soul in a scary, part-alien body.

And a few months previously, he had, tentatively, taken up with a Calafan woman, an engineer named Yilta. She, too, had had a major bereavement in her life, although in her case it was a lost child, and a subsequent divorce. She gave him hope, even as they mainly just sat together at various eating establishments, not saying much. But she was good company, she was a listener, and she was what he needed.

=/\=

 **The Empress knew nothing of such doings. Oh, she had tried a little time travel jiggering of her own, but her aim was solely to expand her Empire. The Defiant was still considerably more advanced than other ships, and so she had tried to move ahead in time, and take a similar, Constitution-class vessel. Her mission was, unfortunately, unsuccessful.**

 **It was good to be the only one with significantly superior speed and firepower, but a girl could always use a spare. And there were no spares.**

 **However, that was changing. There were spies on board the Defiant. They would take a schematic or would rip out a sensor or two; photograph and attempt to reverse engineer them, and then put them back, hoping to not be caught. Over the years, she had had several people sent to the Agony Booth as a punishment for such maneuvers.**

 **But she wasn't fast enough to get all of them, and so black market schematics and equipment were starting to show up on various worlds. It was only a matter of time before someone, somewhere, put a new ship together and completed it. That ship would be as powerful and sleek and fast as the Defiant. And then her power would truly be in peril.**

 **But until then, she was on the prowl for a new bedroom toy. She wasn't thinking about Ritchie Daniels. She was just thinking of how to hide the ever-increasing muffin top that was showing when she was in uniform.**

=/\=

 _You know I wish that I had Jessie's girl_

 _I wish that I had Jessie's girl_

 _Where can I find a woman like that?_

 _Like Jessie's girl_

 _I wish that I had Jessie's girl_

 _Where can I find a woman like that_

 _Where can I find a woman like that?_

\- Rick Springfield (Jessie's Girl)


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

 _And look in the mirror all the time_

 _Wonderin' what she don't see in me_

 _I've been cool I'm a pimp with the lines_

 _Ain't that the way love's supposed to be?_

\- Rick Springfield (Jessie's Girl)

=/\=

For the Perfectionists, their main focus was, well, regaining focus. For the past few months, ever since Otra's escape, they had been scrambling.

The nature of their organization was such that most of its members didn't even know that Otra had been their captive. Even if they did know, only a small subset of those members knew that she had been kept by their leader. Hell, most of them didn't even know that the leader was Milton Walker.

He had been hiding out at the home of his daughter. Most of the organization did not know who she was or, if they did know, many of them were unaware that she remained alive. It had been a decent cover for him after, essentially, losing the _USS Saint Eligius_ as a base of operations. But Helen's quarters were cramped, and they were barely getting along. Milton had to move on.

Another Perfectionist who needed to regroup was Donald Oliver. Milton has designated him as his successor, but that seemed to be in name only. The most vital piece of equipment, the Temporal Enhancer, was still in Milton's possession. This did not sit right with Donald. After all, what good was it being the head of an organization devoted to improving time if he couldn't actually send anyone anywhere?

And so he devised an idea of what to do, in order to be able to better assert his dominance over the Perfectionists.

=/\=

Carmen Calavicci was an alcoholic.

This much she knew, and had known for years. But she was fully functioning, and more than competent. She had enough presence of mind to keep it all together when her charges were skipping around in time. She kept her taste for the hard stuff far, far away from the _USS Adrenaline_ and her duties there.

She had risen through the ranks fairly meteorically. From the beginning, she had understood temporal alternatives, time travel methodologies and the various nuances of otria, pariotria and megaotria.

She was promoted to Admiral and replaced a fellow named Ray Jiminez, who was drummed out of the Temporal Integrity Commission for an ill-timed homosexual affair with a Federation secretary. Not that the Commission cared so much about its members' personal lives – it was that his judgment had become clouded and unreliable. Even as Carmen became soused, she confined such doings to nights and weekends. She was determined to not let the same thing happen to her.

In 3098, when she was put in charge of the Commission's Human Unit, she inherited Rick and Kevin as employees. The former had been there for two years; the latter, for seven. A year after her promotion, she then sought out Otra D'Angelo, knowing that the half-Witannen was the person for who otria was named. Otra had insisted on bringing Levi – a classmate – along. Boris had been hired then, too.

Then her little temporal empire had begun to grow as her boss, Bryce Unger, gave her permission to hire more and more full-time equivalent employees. This had led to the department's current composition. She did not know that at least two of her employees – Dan and Marisol – were playing both sides against the middle and were really working for the Perfectionists. She had her suspicions, but nothing more.

The newer employees had been initially screened at a group interview. There were still a few people left from that group interview who she had not yet hired.

There were Rajesh Kumar and Carol Tilson, but they were engineers and she already seemed to have an overabundance of riches in that area. There were Elston McCoy and Teresa Marquez, but she was a doctor and he was a sciences specialist and Carmen already had Marisol for time traveling medical issues.

Gregory Shaw was an animal specialist, a kind of whisperer. He was a fascinating person, but she had little need for someone of his talents. And, finally, there was Alice Trent, who specialized in high class manners and the protocols of the historical wealthy. She, perhaps, would eventually prove useful.

Currently, Carmen was working on finding out who was secretly working for the Perfectionists, all while sending out her own agents to unravel the Perfectionists' own doings. There was also a _Manifesto_ file, dropped by – Carmen didn't know this _particular_ detail – Helen to be a trail of breadcrumbs and a recruiting tool, intended to snag Commission employees who might, deep down, turn out to be sympathetic to the Perfectionists' cause.

=/\=

"I'd like speak with Daniel Beauchaine, on the _USS Adrenaline_."

"Yeah?"

"This is Donald Oliver."

"You know you're not supposed to be calling here," the contact was making Dan nervous, even though he was alone in his office and the door was shut.

"Understood. You know Walker's gone AWOL. So I have an assignment for you."

"I don't believe I take orders from you."

"I'm the designated successor," Donald said.

"I'm not so sure I believe that."

"Be that as it may, at least listen to what I'm telling you. I think that you'll readily see how it can help our cause."

"Is it dangerous?" Dan asked.

"That was never an issue before. Still, it isn't. In fact, I think you'll find this one to be refreshingly simple."

"Oh?"

=/\=

 **The Empress called a meeting of her senior staff – at least, those who remained. There was Frank Ramirez, the Chief Engineer and newly-designated First Officer. There was Aidan MacKenzie, the Tactical Officer who had had a few decades of virtual in-ship exile as the children's babysitter, but had been re-promoted back to Tactical once they had grown. There was Shelby Pike, the pilot. The Chief Medical Officer was Doctor Mark Stone.**

 **And then there were her four sons. Kira was the Science Officer. Jun was following in Hoshi's footsteps, in Communications. And then there were her two other sons. Arashi ran the betting pool for Game Night and Izo collected the bets. There couldn't be baseball or rugby games without betting. And there couldn't be betting without the Empress and her family taking a generous cut.**

 **She yawned. "I'm sure you all know Andrew's space debris. Frank is now the First Officer. You did the autopsy, Mark?"**

" **I did," Doctor Stone said, "it was a tricoulamine capsule."**

" **That's a nerve toxin," explained Kira.**

 **Stone nodded.**

" **Did he get it from you?" Hoshi asked.**

" **No, Empress," Mark said, "it's possible he got it from Doctor Morgan."**

" **Cyril Morgan stopped being the doctor here over twenty years ago," Hoshi said, "I'll take it outta your hide if I find out you gave him the tricoulamine."**

" **He also could've gotten it while on Shore Leave," Stone added, "feel free to check my stocks. Everything is accounted for."**

" **I'll see about that," she said, "what's the sensor situation?"**

" **We have the usual rodent damage," Ramirez said. There had been enough generations of mice infesting the Defiant that they were practically a dynasty.**

" **Has anyone else tried copying schematics?" the Empress asked.**

" **No one lately," Ramirez reported.**

" **I had the last one in the booth for over six hours," Izo said, grinning.**

" **Did he talk?" Jun asked.**

" **Does it matter?"**

=/\=

It was as Donald had promised an easy task. Dan had access to all sorts of levels of security, and he exploited all of them in order to complete this particular chore.

There were all sorts of safety protocols, but he was able to slow them down or override them. That was all that Donald wanted. There was an opening, and a masking of what he was doing, and Donald was able to accomplish something that the Perfectionists had tried before, but had failed at.

Now the organization would _have_ to sit up and collectively take notice. They would, he figured, virtually _demand_ that he be given the Temporal Enhancer. He had the main thing that had given the Commission a huge advantage over the Perfectionists. And now that advantage was gone.

He had, in his hot little hands, a copy of the master time file.

=/\=

 _Tell me, why can't I find me a woman like that?_

\- Rick Springfield (Jessie's Girl)


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 _You know I wish that I had Jessie's girl_

 _I wish that I had Jessie's girl_

 _I want Jessie's girl_

 _Where can I find me a woman like that?_

 _Like Jessie's girl_

 _I wish that I had Jessie's girl_

 _I wanna piece of Jessie's Girl_

 _Where can I find me a woman like that?_

\- Rick Springfield (Jessie's Girl)

=/\=

The download was routed through the workstation of a Temporal Integrity Commission engineer who was another mole for the Perfectionists. This engineer had also invented the Temporal Enhancer drive. Unbeknownst to the Perfectionists, the engineer had retained a second copy of the drive. It was an insurance policy, for that engineer could not be absolutely certain of the Perfectionists' ultimate aims. For there was, after all, the little matter of Anthony Parker.

Parker had been a Perfectionist temporal operative. It was Daniel Beauchaine who had more or less replaced him, although Beauchaine had infiltrated the Temporal Integrity Commission whereas Parker had remained an external operative. Parker became too morally squeamish to simply blindly do Milton's bidding, and so Milton had had Donald Oliver off him.

That was in the main, correct timeline, naturally.

In an alternate, though, Parker had been very much alive, and he had been instrumental in getting Otra out of what was essentially a small prison cell on the _Saint Eligius_. It was Parker's ultimate urge to do right that had carried over from the correct, main timeline to its alternate offshoot.

Other Perfectionists were less morally pure. Marisol was not above taking what she wanted, or killing in order to more expeditiously attain her goals. Donald Oliver was a good little lackey and, like Nazi prison guards over a millennium before him, felt he could just say he was only following orders. Helen thought of it all as a game.

As for Milton, he wanted the human condition to be vastly improved – perfected, as it were. Wars were unnecessary, starvation was preventable, and diseases were curable. Poverty could be alleviated and all of the ugliness of the world could be painted over.

He also wanted humankind to have a place, and not just at the Federation's table, buried amidst the Vorta and the Betazoids, and out in some left field position like the Witannen. No. Instead, he wanted humans to be at the head of the table.

He could be the savior of humanity! He knew he might not be recognized as such, at least not in his own lifetime, but that was all right. At least he would use the technology at hand to _act_. Just putting everything back – regluing Humpty Dumpty's shell, as it were – seemed a fruitless exercise and a waste of valuable opportunities. Parker's killing was the line-crosser for him. He could no longer go back.

=/\=

News of the master time file's theft – or, rather, its duplication, for the Commission still had the original – spread rapidly throughout the Perfectionists. From his hideout, Milton felt compelled to call a meeting.

He set up what was almost like an old-style conference call. The voices would be masked. The participants would be incapable of discerning gender, age or origin. They wouldn't even know how many people were on the call.

He spoke, "I am pleased that we have a copy of the master time file. I have been doing some research, and would like to focus on economics."

"Economics?" asked an unknown caller, "Money is so primitive."

"That may be so," Milton allowed, "but in the first epoch of the Space Age, the society is capital-based."

"But what can possibly be done that would affect money but would also be a positive change?" asked a different mystery participant.

"There is," Milton said, "one major commodity where the price impacts everything. Make it cheap and plentiful, and keep it that way, and all sorts of development is opened up. Imagine how much faster Warp drive would have been developed! After all, it's the expense of space travel that helps to make the first epoch last as long as it does. What if the first epoch was shortened? Right now, it runs for over a century. Let's see if we can lop off a few decades, eh?"

"What is this magical, universal commodity?" asked a voice, and it was not possible to tell whether that was one of the voices from before.

"Oil."

=/\=

"Did you see a blip in the power matrix?" Kevin asked Deirdre. They were in his office.

"A what?"

"I saw a little jump, a tiny surge of power. It was for maybe a nanosecond," he said.

"Let's look at logs," she said.

There was a door chime. It was a silver Calafan woman, older, which was obvious because she had hair, and the silver on her arms was no longer solid or mottled and instead had matured to a beautiful rococo scrollwork pattern.

 _Yilta_.

Kevin looked up when he realized it was her. His voice changed and softened. "Hiya."

"Despite the fact that a social call would be fun," she said, and her voice sounded like a lilting Irish brogue – a Lafa V accent. Her voice was a bit husky. Whiskey-soaked, they call it. "I am afraid I'm here for business."

"Oh?" Deirdre asked.

"Yes," Yilta replied, "I just saw a small power surge and was wonderin' if you had seen it as well."

=/\=

"Oil?" asked a flat, expressionless voice.

"Yes," Milton replied, "and there are all sorts of events to choose from, but I have two particular ones in mind. The first is to prevent a pivotal assassination. The other is to prevent a major amount of waste. Both events will be relatively even in impact, I believe. Neither one will be a truly primary mission."

"Interesting," said another voice, "go on."

"There will be a diversionary change as well. But instead of isolating Avery, we'll isolate Bernstein by making it a computer mission."

"But we have reasons to isolate Avery," a voice said.

"True. So I'll have our insiders recommend that he accompany Bernstein. But the first order of business is the two primary missions."

=/\=

The call changed, and most of the Perfectionists dropped off. The operatives remained on the line with Milton, as did the inside engineer.

In her office, Marisol nodded. "Yes, I can push them to have Avery go on the diversionary mission. What about Yarin?"

"Yarin will become rather uncomfortable, for you will contact his wife directly," said Milton.

"I will do so. Darragh Stratton Yarin and I are going to become fast friends."

=/\=

In his office at the Commission, Dan listened in on the Perfectionists' call. "What am I to do?" he asked.

"Continue picking away at them," Milton said, "they will come around."

"You said you were going to turn over power," Donald reminded Milton.

"There's been a change of plans. I need to get out of here. The best place for me to go is the mirror," Milton said.

"You need a time ship for that," said the engineer.

"Right," Milton agreed, "because a pulse shot has to be fired. Once they're off, I'll take whichever ship remains. I'd rather it wasn't the old _Audrey Niffenegger_ , but I'll take that one if there are no other alternatives."

"I'll let you know when the other missions are out," said the engineer, "and I'll make sure your target isn't secured so that you can quickly get it out of the launch bay. But then I'll have to distance myself."

"Of course," Milton said, "you need to stay at the Commission, and without arousing any suspicion. You didn't cover your tracks very well when you cut the dark matter intake lines that time."

"I know," admitted the engineer, "I'll do better this time."

=/\=

 **And in 2192, the Empress sauntered down the halls. Her destination was Sick Bay. As she moved, she was saluted, a fist to the chest, and then the hand was opened, fingers side by side, resembling a shark fin, and the arm extended, straight and at a forty-five degree angle above shoulder level. Sometimes she saluted back, sometimes not. Her whim for that particular day was to not salute back, so all she did was smile at her loyal subjects.**

" **Empress! A delightful surprise!" said Doctor Stone, "Do come in."**

 **Sick Bay still had experimental animals, but there were also a number that were dedicated to attempts to control the burgeoning rodent population about. There were various snakes, both poisonous and non, and they had to be confined to their cages when not in use.**

 **The Empress walked past the cages. "The tricoulamine capsule that Miller took – have you any more information on it?"**

" **I don't," Mark said, "but there was a trademark on it. It was an earlier design, from a Crossman Pharmaceutical Company."**

" **Crossman?" Hoshi asked, "As in Jennifer Crossman?"**

" **Possibly," Mark said, "I didn't know her."**

" **She was the Second Engineer when Tucker was still here. In 2157, she and Tucker, and Cutler – that was the babysitter – and the Tactical Guy, Hayes, they bombed the Transporter Room, and possibly ended up on the surface of one of those nasty little planets we were conquering at the time. We went back in 2161 and I ended up losing the replacement Tactical Guy, Chip Masterson, and the Science Officer, a woman named Lucy Stone. You know her?"**

" **She was my cousin, Empress."**

" **I see. You have any desire to see her again?"**

" **Not in particular," he said, "that's old news. Tell me, didn't they take the twins with them – your children with Masterson?"**

" **I only had four kids," Hoshi lied.**

" **I must be … mistaken," Mark said.**

" **Tell me," She said, "do you find me attractive?" she came close and chucked him under the chin playfully. "With Andrew gone, I have a certain, uh, opening."**

" **Don't you have Frank and Aidan for that?"**

" **Aidan's been a bore ever since he married the children's teacher. What he sees in that alky, I'll never know," she complained, "as for Frank, he's, well, he's rather inadequate."**

" **Well, Empress," Mark looked her in the eye, "you do know that I don't play on your team."**

" **I know," she said, "just wondering if I could persuade you to change your mind. You know," she began to grab at him through his doctor's scrubs, "I can make it worth your while."**

" **Empress," he carefully extricated her hand, "a woman as powerful and desirable as you surely has a host of admirers. I couldn't possibly be good enough."**

" **Huh," she said, turning to walk away, "that's true. Something's bound to turn up." She gave him the eye and then left, hips shaking.**

 **Once the door was safely shut behind her, he turned to the snake cages and said, "Good thing we don't have an Emperor, eh boys?"**

=/\=

 _I don't care what they think of me_

 _And I don't care what they say_

 _I don't care what they think if you're leavin'_

 _I'm gonna beg you to stay_

 _I don't care if they start to avoid me_

 _I don't care what they do_

 _I don't care about anything else_

 _But bein' with you_

 _Bein' with you_

\- Being with You (Smokey Robinson)


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

 _Honey, don't go_

 _Don't leave this scene_

 _Be out of the picture_

 _And off of the screen_

 _Don't let them say_

 _We told you so_

 _They tell me you love me_

 _And then let me go_

 _I heard the warnin' voice_

 _From friends and my relations_

 _They tell me all about your_

 _Heartbreak reputation_

\- Being with You (Smokey Robinson)

=/\=

"I've swallowed the dose of trichronium," Donald said, "I'm ready to go."

"Good," Milton said, fiddling with the controls on the Temporal Enhancer. Donald was whisked away, to October sixth of 1981. Cairo.

"Me next?" Helen asked. She had a vial of trichronium in her hand.

"Yes. Just let me reset the controls, or else you'll end up with him," Milton said.

"Ugh."

"Okay, all set," he said, "and when you two get back, he'll go to 1998 and you and I will go get a time ship."

She swallowed the contents of the vial. "Y'know, it tastes a little like cantaloupe."

"Good to know. Enjoy April twentieth, 2010."

"See ya, Daddy."

=/\=

Otra was standing in her office, musing. Levi Cavendish was nearby, staring at his PADD. "Whatcha doin'?" she asked.

"There's one more paragraph of the _Manifesto_ file. It's the third one, the longest one. No one's cracked it yet."

"Do you have anything yet?"

"Nothing," he said.

She was about to answer when her eyes rolled up into her head, and her chavecoi turned a dark purple. Levi didn't see this, but he did look up when he heard her body hit the floor.

"Boris!" he yelled into his implanted Communicator. "Otra's having a vision!"

"I'll alert Carmen," Boris replied as he began to run over to Otra's office.

=/\=

They met in Conference Room six, which was big enough for such a large department. There were alarms going off as the computers began to compile and analyze yottabytes of data that were coming in, due to the change.

"What have you seen?" Carmen asked Otra.

"It's funny. When Milton Walker had me, he would ask me that. It was every single day, I believe."

"Well, you're among friends now," Carmen assured her.

"Are you seeing anything, Marisol?" Otra asked. Marisol purportedly had a bit of Otra's gift but, the truth was, that was a ploy to get and keep her – Marisol, that is – employed by the Temporal Integrity Commission. In reality, Marisol had no more of the gift than Crystal or HD did.

"It is unclear," Marisol said cautiously. "It seems like, it is pyramids." Marisol knew about the missions regarding oil, but she did not know the details. This was to keep the Perfectionists' organization safe in case she was ever brought in for questioning. But it did handicap her when she was asked these kinds of questions.

"Can you confirm?" Carmen asked Otra.

"Huh, well, it's very, _very_ unclear," she said, "it's like pea soup fog everywhere, touching, well, _everything_."

"Fog?" Tom asked.

"Well, it's more of a smoky, dusky yellowy-brown. I think it's pollution," the half-Witannen said.

"Can you discern a year?" Carmen asked.

"No, but there are Suliban."

"Is it a helix?" Rick asked.

"I think it's Earth," Otra said.

"Anything else?" Kevin asked, and then she was smacked with another vision.

Boris held Otra on the floor as she convulsed a little. Then she finally looked up. "Riots," she said, "in Paris and, I think it's Titan."

"Titan? When?" Rick asked. He was from there, and his and Eleanor's parents still lived there.

"2400s, I think," Otra said.

"What do the computers say?" Carmen asked.

"We're still compilin'," Kevin said, "it looks big."

"Deirdre, check for wiped families," Carmen said.

She began clicking around on her PADD. "Oh, man," Deirdre moaned.

"What's wrong?" Dan asked.

"So far, except for Kevin, I think everyone's family is wiped," Deirdre said. That is, as a result of what the Perfectionists had done, it was as if their families had never existed. The employees of the Temporal Integrity Commission were protected by a temporal force field. Even with their families gone, they remained extant. But that same field had protected the master time file, and it had been breached. So they weren't necessarily as safe as they assumed themselves to be.

"Confirm," Carmen said to Levi.

"Oh, uh, yeah," he began clicking.

Boris helped Otra up as then clicked on his own PADD. "Hmm, looks like my wife is unaffected. And she is still my wife."

"That's gotta be a relief," Crystal said. There had been instances when Boris's wife's destiny had changed, and Darragh Stratton Yarin had ended up nonexistent or another's bride.

"Uh, yes, it, uh, is," Boris said. For him, a bored, henpecked husband who was now worried about what his former chippie on the side – Marisol – might say or do, the news of his wife's resilience wasn't exactly good.

"Let's look at broadcasts. What's the news in the current reality?" Carmen asked.

Sheilagh clicked around a little until she found something. "Here." She projected the video image onto the wall of the Conference Room.

" _Pope Gregory XXXII today announced that meatless Fridays are back in effect. All believers are advised to shop for fish or vegetarian specialties on Thursdays, so as to be prepared. Troy_?" asked an attractive Suliban news correspondent.

The anchorman was a handsome human. " _Thank you, Dellak. As all believers know, Sabbath is coming earlier this weekend, so that we may rest in anticipation of the Pope's visit to Ferenginar. Infidels_ ," he spat out the word as if it were rotten, " _are cautioned to remain indoors during the Pope's visit, unless they plan to see the light and convert, as believers will be out in force. Marci?_ "

Marci was his co-anchor. " _And now we will read from the Book of …._ "

"Holy cow, that's my mother!" Levi exclaimed.

=/\=

The new Temporal Agent gave up trying communications and instead tried a code she had been given. But that wasn't working, either. She opened a hand-held Communicator she was carrying, for she did not yet have an implanted one. "Bryce Unger, please, on the _USS Adrenaline_." Unger was the head of the Temporal Integrity Commission. He was Carmen's boss, he was Kaiwev's boss – Kaiwev ran the Calafan Unit – he was over all of them.

"Speaking."

"Sir, it's Alice Trent. I was told to report for duty today, but no one's here to let me in, and I can't get Rajesh or any of the others to answer hails."

"Excuse me?"

She repeated what she had said. "Just a moment," Bryce said. He tapped his ear a few times to put her on hold and change channels. "Carmen?"

"Yes?"

"Did you hire Alice Trent? Or anyone named Rajesh?"

"No, and no," Carmen said, "what the devil is going on?"

"She's trying to be admitted. It's, this must be that she's a new hire in the new reality, in the timeline as the Perfectionists have altered it."

"How very interesting," Carmen said. She thought for a second. "I was considering her, in case I needed her. And I wonder if she's referring to Rajesh Kumar, who I had also interviewed. But you'll find one of our little changes to be interesting – the Pope is, I believe, Gregory Shaw. I interviewed him myself. He's an animal specialist."

"Not anymore, apparently," Bryce said, "We've got a theocracy. This will probably be a lot to fix. What do you want to do about Trent?"

"Hmm," Carmen thought some more as the rest of the department looked on. "Maybe allow her in. If this is the new reality, let's play it out, at least for now. Perhaps she can lead us back to where the divergence happened. The computers are slowly compiling. She might prove to be faster."

"I have no doubt that there is more than one divergence," Unger said, "keep me posted. Unger out."

"People," Carmen addressed the room, "we apparently have a new colleague. I suspect she'll be able to help us establish when some of the divergence occurred."

"There's gonna be _lots_ of divergences," Kevin said, "that thing looks like it's gonna compile all night."

"Then let's adjourn," Carmen said, "and pick it all up again tomorrow morning. I know we've got a lot of changes, but – and I only speak for myself here – I am exhausted. I will bring Alice in and debrief her. I realize this is irregular but I get the feeling we'll have to wait a long time for the computers. Dismissed."

As the others filed out, Kevin took Carmen aside. "Do you mind if I wander off the premises?" he asked.

"You're a big boy," she said, "do what you like, if you can maintain a link with the computers. I don't really care where you are when you learn that compiling is completed, so long as you learn of it quickly."

"Oh, whew, thanks!" he ambled off as quickly as his near teragram of bulk would allow.

=/\=

Yilta was sitting in her office when the door chimed. "Come in."

It was Kevin. "I can go out tonight."

"Oh, and can ya stay in as well?"

"After dinner, yeah," he said, coming over to her and kissing her, "we'll go to my place."

"It's been a long time since I did that in any way but in my dreams," she confessed, "it was before my daughter was born, and I was still married to Darywev."

"You don't wanna know how long it's been for me," he replied, "I hope I remember how."

"Oh, I don't think you'll forget how to make love."

=/\=

Tom caught up with Rick. "I talked to Deirdre. She said your family's one of those that's wiped."

"I guess so."

"That means Eleanor is gone."

"Well, yeah."

"I wonder how Boris does it, coming here, knowing that on any given day, his wife could be gone, or no longer know him. It's unnerving." Tom said. And he didn't add what he was thinking, that he missed her, and worried if, somehow, she knew she was gone, and was scared or alone.

"I'm sure I don't know."

=/\=

 _But I don't care what they think about me_

 _And I don't care what they say, no_

 _I don't care what they think if you're leavin'_

 _I'm gonna beg you to stay_

 _I don't care if they start to avoid me_

 _I don't care what they do_

 _I don't care about anything else_

 _But bein' with you_

 _Bein' with you_

\- Being with You (Smokey Robinson)


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

 _People can change they always do_

 _Haven't they noticed the changes in you?_

 _Or can it be that like love I am blind_

 _Do I want it so much?_

 _'Til it's all in my mind_

 _One thing I know for sure_

 _It's really, really, real_

 _I never felt before_

 _The way you make me feel_

\- Being with You (Smokey Robinson)

=/\=

" **You think the Empress suspects anything?" Shelby asked Frank. They were in his quarters.**

" **About you and me? I dunno. I don't think she would've made me First Officer if she really, truly, did."**

" **Still, we gotta be careful," she said, "I mean, if I'm here during the day, like I am now, I – we – should probably stay clothed, like we are now."**

" **C'mon," he said, "she hasn't caught us yet."**

" **Still …."**

 **There was a door chime. They both froze. "You're here about the Duty Roster," he said to her. Then, more loudly, he said, "Come in."**

 **It was Aidan. They both let out a breath. "You two gotta be more careful," Aidan said, "me, I got a wife. So the Empress expects Susan and me to be together. But she'll be snooping around Frank here until she gets a new toy."**

" **Sheesh, why did Miller hafta off himself?" Frank complained.**

" **He probably figured it was the only way out," Shelby said.**

" **Confidentially," Aidan said, "it's not."**

" **Oh?" Frank asked.**

" **Nope. In '61, Stoney's cousin and Masterson stole the twins and an escape pod, and went to Lafa II," Aidan said.**

" **You think they survived the trip?" Shelby asked.**

" **Dunno, but some of the contraband parts are coming outta that system," Frank said.**

" **That might be them," Aidan allowed, "it could also be Tucker, or even Crossman."**

" **What?" Frank asked.**

" **I was there," Aidan said, "it was '57. Remember Crossman was nabbed by Calafans? The old man took an assault team down. It was him, Mayweather, Haddon, Delacroix and me. Del died while we were down there. Haddon lost her life when the Transporter Room was bombed. And Mayweather died when the Empress sent him and Torres down to take care of a Calafan revolt in '61."**

" **So you're the only one of that team who's still alive, eh MacKenzie?" Shelby asked Aidan.**

" **You forgot the old man. What happened to him?" Frank asked. "The story is that he died in the Transporter Room bombing."**

" **I don't think so," Aidan said, "he, uh, when we were on the surface, we ran into Crossman. She'd gone native, taken up with an alien. He said we were to claim that we'd just found her body in the forest."**

" **Ah, yeah, I remember the investigation into the Transporter Room bombing now," Frank said, "the Transporter was run twice. One set of coordinates was to a spot in the forest. The second set was into a set of emitter dishes. That made no sense to me at the time, but I wonder now if it was how the charges were triggered."**

" **So the old man went to the surface?" Shelby asked. "It wouldn't surprise me. I recall he was smart."**

" **How did you know him?" Frank asked.**

" **He and I, heh, we had a thing," she said, "back when I was new."**

" **Oh," Frank said, letting that information sink in.**

" **Anyway, I recall Tucker and Cutler left then," Aidan said, "I bet all three of 'em went down to the surface."**

" **Maybe," Frank said, "and now they're making and selling black market ship parts, eh?"**

" **Possibly," Aidan allowed, "I dunno for sure. Still, they got out, one way or another."**

" **You think if we went back to that planet, we could somehow get out?" Shelby asked, "Bring Susan, of course."**

" **Maybe. I dunno – I feel too old to be going native," Frank said, "What was the name of that planet again?"**

" **Lafa II," Aidan said.**

=/\=

The story, as they remembered it, wasn't _quite_ right. The old man – Doug Hayes – _had_ been the one to blow up the Transporter Room, inadvertently killing Security Crewman Deborah Haddon in the process. But he hadn't transported to the surface. Instead, he had taken the second transport, to the Calafan emitter dishes, and had been passed over to _our_ universe, on _our_ side of the pond.

His was the first human crossover between the two universes, and it was a permanent move.

He had lived there, and had married, and had fathered five children. But by 2192, he was gone, dead for a good decade, after what had, against all odds, turned into a happy life.

His widow, Lili, had remarried. She and her second husband, Captain Malcolm Reed, were retired on Lafa II, but on our side of the pond. They were also direct forebears of, among many others, Eleanor and Richard Daniels.

=/\=

"So you think that glitch was somethin'?" Yilta asked as she and Kevin took a transport back to his place on Andoria.

"Yeah, I do," he said, "I don't know what, specifically, it is, but I aim to find out. Ah, here we are."

His home was comfortable, and still had a lot of the touches that his late wife, Josie, had added. There were white floral mesh curtains in the kitchen windows. A painting of Edosian orchids hung in the front hall.

And, prominently displayed in the living room, was Josie and Kevin's huge wedding portrait. "Ah, your wife was Aenar," Yilta said, looking at the picture, "so I bet her name was not really _Josie_."

"No, it was _Jhasi_ ," Kevin said, "I misheard her when we met."

"Thereby hangs a tale, eh? Do yanno what her name meant?"

"I have no idea," Kevin admitted, "your people are big on that, not mine or hers – although my family does repeat names. If I had had a kid, I'd probably have gone with Melissa or Stuart. I dunno. It doesn't matter now."

"We need to get permission to use names," she said, wandering around the living room a bit, "it's because we don't have last names. Otherwise, we'd all get horribly confused!"

"Let me ask you something," he said, "a lot of the male Calafan names seem to mean _master of_ something or other, and the women's names – like yours, right? – I understand they mean _student of_ something. Are your names sexist?"

"Ha! No, not at all," Yilta said, "if anything, the men's names are often jokes. It's so silly to name a little baby boy _Ariwev_ – _master of labor_ – or Rennewev – _master of the forest_. And then there are really silly names, like _Fepwev_."

"Doesn't that mean, uh, _master of the small_?"

"Yes, or _master of very little_ – so you end up naming your son, well, saying that he's the head of only a very small dominion. Kinda amusing, when ya parse it out like that, eh?"

"I guess it is. Let's talk about something else," he said, steering her out of the living room.

"Oh?"

They stood in a little hallway, and she was standing in front of a picture of Josie. It was an older photograph, from before Josie had been diagnosed. There was a superficial resemblance, although Yilta didn't have antennae.

"Yes," he smiled, "let's talk about how pretty you are."

"Me? I'm no Lo, that's for sure," Yilta said, "For she was the best and most perfect, of course. The standard of beauty. It's rather self-centered to make comparisons to her, as she is the ideal."

"Don't worry 'bout it," he smiled at her, "I think you're beautiful."

She blushed. "It's so strange, we have been together for a while and we have not spoken much. We keep company, and I like that. And now we can't stop talkin'."

"Well," he said, "I admit I am kinda babbling because I'm a little afraid of what'll happen when we stop talking."

"What is it that ya wanna have happen?"

"You know," he said. They kissed.

"Which way is your bedroom?" she asked.

=/\=

Helen returned to where Milton was still standing. "Where's Donnie?" she asked.

"He should've been back by now," Milton said.

"Huh. Maybe he's having some small issues."

As if on cue, Donald Oliver reappeared. "Getting out of Cairo was harder than I had thought," he said, "my apologies."

"Ready for 1998?" Milton asked him.

"Definitely," he said, "it's always better when it's a mission without any shooting."

"But that's why we keep y'all around," Helen drawled, "to do all the dirty little jobs."

"That's only 'cause you don't like sullying your hands, Princess," Donald countered.

"Find another place to live when you get back," Milton said, "the current arrangement," Donald had been sleeping on Helen's floor while Milton had taken her couch, "isn't working out."

"Maybe Andoria," said Donald.

"No," Milton replied, "somewhere in the Solar System. I don't care where, just, it's gotta be in our home system."

"Uh, all right," Donald swallowed another dose of trichronium, "let's go."

Milton set the controls for September fourth of 1998 and, in a flash, Donald was gone.

"Let's go get that time ship," Helen said.

=/\=

 _I don't care what they think about me_

 _And I don't care what they say_

 _I don't care what they think if you're leavin'_

 _I'm gonna beg you to stay_

 _I don't care if they start to avoid me_

 _I don't care what they do_

 _I don't care about anything else_

 _But bein' with you_

 _Bein' with you_

 _Bein' with you_

\- Being with You (Smokey Robinson)


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

 _Bein' with you_

 _I don't care about anything else_

 _But bein' with you_

 _Bein' with you_

 _Bein' with you_

\- Being with You (Smokey Robinson)

=/\=

As Donald Oliver rejiggered events in September of 1998, and Helen and Milton stealthily approached the Temporal Integrity Commission in order to grab a time ship, and the other members of the Commission's Human Unit looked for the changes or tried to relax, Kevin and Yilta made love.

It had been a while for both of them. They both laughed at how rusty they had become. Plus there were the questions, for they were not of the same species. "What happens if I touch your calloo?" he had asked, referring to the silvery pattern on her arms and legs. On her, the pattern resembled lightning bolts.

"Find out," she had said, grinning.

It was … interesting. But it was definitely getting him the desired effect. When she touched his scales, though, it wasn't much, except, like any intimate act, when a lover sees something that one has kept hidden – in that sense it was thrilling.

They laughed, and joked, enjoying not just the feeling of being close and bringing each other to climax, but also the delight in being together.

Kevin had to admit it was something he had not felt in a long time. Not just the climaxing and the closeness.

It was also … _fun_.

=/\=

It had been so long since Kevin O'Connor had experienced fun of any kind. He had lived his life, for a long time, in a perpetual state of work and worry.

It had all, really, started back when he had met Josie. It had been 3088 – December eighteenth, to be precise – at a holiday party for his old firm. Prior to working at the Temporal Integrity Commission, he had worked in an engineering firm. They had built bridges on Kronos, office buildings on Tandar Prime and schools on Vulcan.

And the party – he hadn't even wanted to go. But a coworker of his, Archie Leach, had suggested that he come along as wingman. Kevin had dutifully stood by while Archie had made time with a Trill hottie, Parul Odan.

And then Kevin had wandered around, bored, trying to think of how to more or less gracefully get outta Dodge when he spotted her.

She had been wearing a form-fitting sky blue minidress with fuchsia piping on the sleeves. There was a silver belt and matching shoes. Every detail was burned into his brain.

She had wheeled around when he'd come close, antennae first moving in his direction, before the rest of her body caught up. She had smiled, he had asked for her name and she had said, " _Jhasi_."

And he had completely flubbed it, and repeated it back to her – _Josie_.

But she hadn't been annoyed. Instead, she'd been amused, particularly when he had told her that it made it sound like she was a honky tonk angel.

They had left together and, after that, had rarely been apart. And then, in early 3100, she had received the devastating diagnosis of Piaris Syndrome. It had robbed her of her immune system, of her bones, of her speech and voice, and of her blood. The doctors had, as the disease had progressed, gradually replaced the bits and pieces with cybernetic equivalents.

 _Equivalents_.

That was a laugh, for there was no equal.

The disease finally began to eat away at her brain and, in the final, agonizing months, she had forgotten who he was, even as he had bathed and cathetered and dressed her, more devoted than any nurse.

She had finally, mercifully, died on December twenty-ninth of 3109.

He had been floored. It didn't matter that her death was expected, and almost welcomed. He was still crushed, and had proceeded with caution in his life.

Yilta, like he, was an engineer. There were definitely reasons for them to meet. At first it had been strictly work-related.

And then, suddenly, one day, it wasn't anymore. And that feeling, it wasn't just fun.

It was more than that.

It was _hope_.

=/\=

Polly Porter couldn't sleep. Like the others at the Commission, she had a bunk. During situations such as these, when the timeline was really mangled, most of the department stayed close. She had no husband or lover waiting for her at home, or anything like that. So it made sense to bunk at the Commission.

But her pre-sleep calming ritual was just not doing it for her. She finally turned on a small light and clicked on her PADD to get it fired up again. The Federation – or, rather, its more or less equivalent –was a theocracy. But why?

She thought for a while. Why would any specific religion become predominant? This one was an odd admixture of all sorts of faiths. It was a mishmash of devotionals. There were confessionals, like in Catholicism, reincarnation like in the Hindu faith, kosher eating like in Judaism, teachings of the Buddha sprinkled throughout all manner of unrelated texts, Southern Baptist gospel singing, and even Greek goddess worship.

The Festival of Athena was coming up. Brisket and chicken soup with knaidlach would be served, while a choir would sing "Go Tell it on the Mountain" and a Native American sweat lodge would be made available to all. Wacky.

And then she realized something was missing.

=/\=

And in his own bunk, amidst his own troubles and paranoia and heartache, Boris turned to a place where he had, at times, found comfort, albeit not recently – the _Koran_.

But it was nowhere to be found. He clicked around furiously. But it was gone in the current reality.

Independently, he and Polly traced the loss of the _Koran_ and the fall of Islam back. He traced it to 2010.

Polly took a slightly dissimilar path, and traced it back to 1981.

They were both right.

=/\=

As Kevin lay there, he looked at Yilta as she settled down to sleep. "Now, yanno I've got me a nighttime fellow, right?" she asked.

"Yeah, I know," he said. It was a typical Calafan arrangement. Days were devoted to life and work and, if one were lucky, a marriage and a family or at least a lover. He had to smile to himself – he hadn't been thought of as a lover for a long time. But the nights! Ah, the Calafan nights were a whole other matter, for they were dedicated to other relationships, with Calafans from the other universe.

"I said, d'ya mind if I contact my Treve?"

"Um, I guess not," he said.

"I know some fellows can get a bit jealous," she said, her voice inviting and sexy, a whiskey-soaked Irish brogue that gave away her birthplace – Lafa V.

"Well, I admit it feels a little odd," he said.

"There's little to be jealous of," she said, "for Treve is on the other side of the pond and has his own family anyway. He is not gonna come here and try and replace you or anything." She kissed him.

"Yilta?"

"Hmm?"

"I, uh, I'll tell you later." He put his arm around her and she settled in and turned to face a bit away from him.

He heard a few random words from her as she slept, and figured out that her dream was that she and Treve were talking about him. "He's nice," she murmured. Then there was a pause, "yes, you're nice, too," a giggle, "I will let yanno how it goes," another pause, "I feel happier than I have in a long while. I think it's partly due to him, partly due to you. Thank you for being there with me, Treve."

He didn't hear anymore as he, too, slept, dreaming not of Josie like he often did, but of a Western trail ride which morphed from the present time into the Ancient West. He roped cattle and then dismounted at a one-horse town and walked into the bar, spurs jingling. He smiled at the townspeople as they called him Sheriff, and the dance hall girl was a silver Calafan beauty he knew not as well as he wanted to, but definitely wanted to know better.

=/\=

He did not wake up until an alarm went off, startling him out of a sound slumber. Unbeknownst to him, Donald Oliver had made one more change, in September of 1998. But Kevin did know one thing – the computers had finished compiling.

=/\=

 _We had broken up for good just an hour before_

 _Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh uh_

 _Now I'm staring at the bodies as they're dancing 'cross the floor_

 _Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh uh_

 _And then the band slowed the tempo when the music took you down_

 _Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh uh_

 _It was the same old song with the melancholy sound_

 _Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh uh  
_

\- Greg Kihn Band (The Breakup Song)


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

 _They don't write 'em like that anymore_

 _They just don't write 'em like that anymore_

\- Greg Kihn Band (The Breakup Song)

=/\=

Dazed, foggy and still feeling tired, but also feeling very, _very_ good, Kevin tentatively opened one eye. That was, it was a bit of paranoia, a fear on his part. He'd always felt that way with women. There was that _morning after_ moment, a little scary, when he couldn't be sure that the woman hadn't sneaked out in the middle of the night.

He saw silvery blonde hair on the form sleeping next to him, facing away from him. _Excellent_. He tapped his left ear, "Yeah, Carmen? The computer's done compiling. I'll be in, uh, in a few hours. O'Connor out."

He wasn't sure if he could perform again. But at least he'd give it the old college try. _Win one for Madison_ , he thought. _On Wisconsin, plunge through that line!_ Heh, he chuckled to himself, imagining Badgers cheerleaders at the foot of the bed for a split second.

There was also breakfast. That would be safer, and easier. Plus he figured he needed sustenance. It took a lot to maintain a near quarter-metric ton physique. So that would have to come first, "G'morning," he said, "what do you like to eat for breakfast?"

She turned over and he saw that, incredibly, she had antennae, "Kevin, we've been married for close to twenty years. Don't you know what I like for breakfast by now?"

The woman, naked, got up and grabbed a short robe and put it on. She leaned over and kissed him, antennae twitching. He just lay there, slack-jawed, staring.

For she was not Yilta. She was whole and she was happy and she was healthy and she was, most definitely, Aenar.

 _Josie_.

=/\=

Conference Room six slowly filled up with the members of the Human Unit, all yawning and stretching.

"Mister O'Connor tells me that the computers have finished compiling," Carmen said, "he will be here in a few hours. In the meantime, what have we got?"

"I think I've found why we have a theocracy, or at least why it's such a mishmash of cultures and faiths," Polly said.

"I have something as well," Boris said, "I stumbled upon it quite by accident. But, please, go ahead."

"Well, it's like this," Polly said, "the official state religion seems to be a mix of everything but Islam."

"Islam? Is that what you found, Boris?" Carmen asked.

"I did. It's as if they erased the _Koran_ from history."

"Agreed," Polly said, "there are only a few fragments floating around. It's as if we were looking at the writings of the ancient Greeks and Romans."

Alice walked in. "Sorry I'm late. Did I miss anything?"

"Well, we think we figured out the religion thing," Deirdre said.

"Religion thing?" Alice asked, "I don't find that to be terribly funny."

"No one's suggesting anything," Dan said.

"They'd better not be," Alice said, "for we have the one, true faith."

=/\=

Kevin sat down to pancakes. "You're quiet today," Josie said.

"Uh, yeah, I guess I am. Uh, how are ya feeling?"

"Me? I'm fine. Like I always am! You're such a worrywart!"

"Well, I just, uh, I want you to be all right," he said cautiously, "no feeling clumsy, unable to hit a door chime, anything like that?"

"No."

"Are you hungry? You barely touched your pancakes," he said.

"I am trying to watch my figure," she said.

"Feeling tired?"

"No, I am not feeling tired. Honestly, Kevin, you're sounding like a mother hen!"

"Well, I just, uh, I want you to be all right," he said.

"You should get to work," she said, checking the time on her PADD, "you told Carmen you'd be there."

"I know," he said, "maybe we could spend the day together. I'll call in sick or something."

"What's gotten into you?" she asked, incredulous, "you said it yourself, that the computers had finished compiling. You've got some sort of a change, right? You need to go and fix it. And then you can hurry home."

"Right," he said, swallowing hard.

"Now go to work! I'll be here when you get back!"

As he prepared to leave, and waited for their building's Transporter to be ready for him, all he could think of was – _that's what you think._

=/\=

" **Set a course for the Lafa System," the Empress commanded.**

" **Yes," said Shelby, "ready."**

" **Warp six," said the Empress.**

" **Mom, why are we going there?" asked Arashi.**

" **You should know," she said, "they're behind with their taxes. They should be … persuaded … to do better, don't you think?"**

" **Right," he said, "but there are other places where we could be collecting."**

" **I've got some information on contraband ship parts coming out of there," Kira said, "we should check on that."**

" **Exactly," Hoshi said, "see, it's not just his age that makes Kira a leader, Arashi. He's smart for things like investigating where those parts are coming from. You could learn a thing or two from him."**

 **Kira gave Arashi a look of superiority.**

" **Of course," Hoshi added, "Kira could learn a thing or two from Arashi, about how to collect tribute, and why it's so important. A bankrupt Empire is a dead Empire."**

 **Quietly, Aidan sat at his station, filing the information away for later. The Lafa System, contraband parts and uncollected tribute – there would be a need to send down at least a few assault teams. He could split off and stay on the surface of whatever rock they went to, preferably Lafa II, and see if Tucker, Cutler, Crossman and the old man still lived. Or maybe Masterson and Stoney's cousin would be there. All he had to figure out was some sort of pretext for getting his wife, the ship's teacher, to the surface.**

 **He nodded at Shelby when the Empress and her sons weren't looking.**

 **Shelby was also thinking – there would be a need for a pilot to the surface. She could do that. She would just have to figure out a way to get the Chief Engineer down as well. Whether or not the old man and any of the others remained alive was all well and good, but not strictly necessary. Even dying on that rock would be preferable to dying on board the Defiant, either in the Agony Booth, an 'accident' by some subordinate or at the hands of someone looking to move up a rank.**

=/\=

Kevin arrived as the Human Unit was still talking. He looked at his PADD, which had a summary of what the computers had found. "I got three changes," he said, as a greeting, as he walked into Conference Room six.

"Three?" Carmen asked. Alice was still glaring at everyone.

"2010, uh, 1998 and 1981," he read off.

"What's 1998?" Carmen asked.

"It's right up Sheilagh's alley," Kevin said.

"Aha," she said.

"Yep, it's September fourth, 1998; wanna venture a guess on what it is?"

"I know this one!" she enthused, "It's the start of Google!"

"Yes, it's when they were incorporated," Kevin said, "but it looks like the technology was from earlier."

"So it's another red herring," Rick said.

"Possibly," Kevin allowed.

"I suppose your other two have to do with Islam?" Tom asked.

"Why would you want to help those infidels?" Alice bristled, "Are you all nonbelievers?"

"Um, who is, uh, Miss, I'm Kevin O'Connor," he extended his hand to her but she didn't shake it.

"You're part-reptile," she said, noticing the scales on his arm when his sleeve moved up a tad, "those are unclean animals."

Kevin was dumbstruck.

Carmen finally said, "Your findings for 2010 and 1981, Mister O'Connor?"

"Oh, uh, yeah," he said, "I got the assassination of Anwar Sadat in 1981. It was supposed to be outside at a parade but now it's later, it's in 2014 and it's at some state dinner."

"An Arab? You care about an Arab?" Alice asked in disbelief.

"Yes," Boris said, straightening up and looking as menacing as possible, "we do."

"You're really wasting a lot of time with nonbelievers and inferiors," she replied.

"Tell you what," HD said, standing up, "you keep your opinions to yourself and so will we."

Alice folded her arms and pouted.

"2010, Mister O'Connor?" Carmen prompted.

"Oh, uh, yeah, well, we start off with, in the original history, there's an explosion off the Gulf of Mexico. It's called Deepwater Horizon. This kills eleven guys, injures a bunch of others and, probably more importantly, it pollutes the gulf, big time. It also wastes millions of barrels of oil."

Rick clicked around on his PADD. "I think oil is the key here. Sadat's death raised the price of oil in the original history. Instead, that doesn't happen, so Arab countries don't make as much money in the last half of the twentieth century, first half of the twenty-first."

"Serves those infidels well."

"But then when Deepwater doesn't explode, the price of oil stays low," Crystal said, reading off her PADD, "so again, not as much cash goes to OPEC. Cheap oil floods the marketplace and conservation ends, thereby increasing levels of pollution."

"No wonder I saw fog and dirty air," Otra said.

"Looks like war in Yemen," Rick said.

"It also seems that an economically weakened Middle East makes Islam less attractive to a lotta people," Tom said, "there are conversions from Islam to, well, to whatever, by millions of people, during the early part of the twenty-first century. Then, uh, there's a grand unification of faiths."

"In 2034," Alice said, "that's also the year that Warp Drive was invented, but every believer knows that."

"Uh, who invented Warp Drive?" asked Sheilagh.

"Why, Khan Noonien Singh, of course," Alice replied, "every believer knows that."

"What about First Contact?" Deirdre asked, "When did that happen? And with which species?"

"Why, the Suliban, of course, in 1982."

"All right, we'll run three missions," Carmen said, "Uh, Richard, you'll take the _Wells_ and lead the mission to 1981. Take, uh, Polly and, well, take Alice."

Rick raised an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"

"There's a state dinner, or at least there is in the alternate. We may need these kinds of services," Carmen explained. She paused, "Sheilagh, you and HD will take _Fluxy_ and fix 1998."

" _Fluxy's_ been running hot," Levi said, "she shouldn't be taken anywhere until we look at her."

"Good idea," Kevin said, "take _Audrey II_ instead, Sheilagh."

"Okay," she said.

"Tom, you'll run the 2010 mission to the Gulf. Take Dan and Marisol with you, on the _Jack_."

"Got it."

"All right, Crystal, get them ready. Rick and his party first – let's get them going. Perhaps a few other things," she eyed Alice, "will repair themselves once 1981 is restored."

"I refuse to work to restore Arabs," Alice said, arms folded.

"I don't really give a damn what your personal beliefs are," Carmen said, "This is your job."

"You'll hear from the Pope about this!"

"I'll have that to look forward to, then. Oh, and Kevin, get some help from other engineers – Von, and the Calafan engineer if she's available, please. Dismissed."

=/\=

 _We been living together for a million years_

 _Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh uh_

 _But now it feels so strange out in the atmospheres_

 _Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh uh_

 _And then the jukebox plays a song I used to know_

 _Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh uh_

 _And now I'm staring at the bodies as they're dancing so slow_

 _Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh uh_

\- Greg Kihn Band (The Breakup Song)


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

 _They don't write 'em like that anymore_

 _They don't write 'em like that anymore  
_

\- Greg Kihn Band (The Breakup Song)

=/\=

"You're Westerners; it looks like you won't have to wear veils," Crystal said to Polly and Alice.

"Good. The whole idea is primitive and repulsive," Alice sniffed haughtily.

Polly just rolled her eyes. "So, how do you think you want to work it?" she asked Rick.

"Well, normally I guess we'd just make sure the shooting occurred," he said, "but we might need to get in close. Hence, uh, _Little Miss Sunshine_ here should be of help."

Alice glared at him, "You must be a nonbeliever."

"If they're all as sweet and helpful as you are, I'm kinda glad to be an infidel," he said.

Carmen entered the work area. "Now, this one has the potential to, more or less, fix everything," she said, "so let's all have a good mission, all right?"

"But –" Alice began to protest again.

"Well, just a moment," Carmen said, "Richard, come with me."

They ducked into Otra's office, which was close by and empty for the nonce. "Yes?" he said.

"She's not protected by the temporal force field," Carmen said, "we'll give her the temporary version of the stem cell growth accelerator, like we do with historians and other non-employees who need to do a little time traveling. Anyway, I am figuring, if you make enough changes, she might just disappear altogether. Not die, of course – she does belong in our correct timeline. But she may end up back home or wherever she was before we got started. I do hope you'll take heart from that."

He smiled. "Man, oh man, this is a nasty timeline."

"It's horrid," Carmen concurred, "but we've got her, so let's use her talents. We'd best go back before it begins to look strange. Do keep in mind that she'll be gone soon, either way, and try to get along with her."

"She's a pain in the –"

"In this timeline, she doesn't think she's being offensive at all. The same could have been said for any of us if we would up in a similar predicament, I suspect. But you probably won't have to deal with her for very long, Richard. Hang in there."

=/\=

Engineering was hopping. Kevin could barely look up. He and Yilta had exchanged glances, nothing more, as he had needed for her and Von to get to work more or less immediately.

The _HG Wells_ was made ready first, as Carmen had requested. The apparel was not as cutting-edge as Crystal often put together for travelers. She had explained that, in an Arab country, particularly near in time to the Iranian Revolution, it would be best for the time travelers to all dress relatively conservatively. Rick was wearing a suit and a tie with a white shirt. Polly and Alice were in skirt suits, mid-calf length. Their collars were high; their hair was back in severe buns.

"Are we ready?" Rick made a point of asking Kevin directly.

"Yep. Off to Cairo with ya. Bring me back a pyramid."

"Maybe just a camel," Rick replied, "C'mon, ladies, let's go."

"I still say these are nonbelievers. It is a disgrace to be helping them," Alice complained.

"Don't think of it as helping them," Polly said, "think of it as killing Anwar Sadat."

Alice didn't answer, and just boarded the _Wells_.

"Down the rabbit hole," Rick said as he closed the hatch. They departed.

Next to go were Sheilagh and HD. 1998 fashions were soft and casual, partly a consequence of the fact that they were going to small software company in Menlo Park, California. Sheilagh had on a scoop neck top and skinny jeans – Crystal had said something about _more Madonna than J. Lo_ , when it came to the look. HD was in jeans, too, and a boatneck top. For him, Crystal had said – _Ashton Kutcher_ – whoever that had been. They departed in the _Audrey II_.

Finally, Tom, Dan and Marisol were ready to go to 2010. It was a short dress and high boots for her, and boot cut jeans for the men. The _Jack Finney_ took off and the engineers were left in the launch bay.

"It's been a long day," Levi said, "can we look at _Fluxy_ tomorrow?"

"Sure," Kevin said, "I'm gonna go grab some grub or something." He had not stopped working for hours.

"I'm beat. I don't think food will come before my bunk," said Von, a Ferengi engineer. He left.

"Can I talk to ya?" Yilta finally asked.

"Uh, yeah, um, let's go to my office," Kevin said. As they walked, he wondered what the hell it was that he was going to do.

=/\=

And once they had all left the launch bay, a signal was sent to Helen and Milton, who were waiting on Berren Five. The signal included the encryption for transport – that had been what Alice had been lacking when she had arrived. But, when you know someone inside – and that person is up to no good – it's possible to get the code.

There was no one there, and it was a simple matter to grab the time ship called the _Flux Capacitor_ and maneuver it out. By the time Carmen knew what the hell was happening, _Fluxy_ was gone.

=/\=

"Do you know when you want to go to?" Helen asked as she steered _Fluxy_.

"I like a simpler time," Milton replied, "perhaps before the development of the Constitution class."

"Well," Helen said, "my understanding of mirror history is that they didn't actually make Constitution class ships until about the time we did. But the Empress Hoshi Sato had her own – the _Defiant_ – it more or less fell into her lap when it was displaced, both in time and by universe, back in the 2150s."

"Hmm," he checked his PADD. He looked at a picture of the Empress. She was one beautiful woman. And it had been a long time since he'd been around someone like _that_. Not that he necessarily had a chance. He was over sixty years of age! He clicked around some more. There was a list of her conquests – not the planets and systems, but the men. The list abruptly ended at 2192 and didn't pick up until years later.

"Make up your mind, Daddy, we're past 2700 already."

"2192," he said.

=/\=

" **I've been lucky," Hoshi said, eying a young crewman, "and I can get lucky. Would you like to get lucky tonight, fella?"**

" **I, hmm."**

" **C'mon, Crewman Kirk, most guys don't get this sort of an offer."**

" **I, uh."**

" **Tiberius," she said, "did you know that was the name of an Emperor? But from way back when," she said. She grabbed at him through his uniform, "I won't take no for an answer."**

" **Uh, understood, Empress."**

=/\=

 _Now I wind up staring at an empty glass_

 _Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh uh_

' _Cause it's so easy to say that you'll forget your past_

 _Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh uh_

\- Greg Kihn Band (The Breakup Song)


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

 _They don't write 'em like that anymore_

 _They don't write 'em like that anymore_

\- Greg Kihn Band (The Breakup Song)

=/\=

There was a clock on a wall, in a cheery yellow hallway in a small house on Lafa II in our universe. The house was located up a little rise, near a thicket of amplifying dishes on a much larger rise called Point Abic. The dishes had originally been used to emit regular bursts of ionizing radiation, in order to maintain the wall between our universe and the mirror.

The wall, or septum, between the two universes, is thinnest there, and Calafans could and did readily cross in between. However, thousands of years ago, the prime and mirror universe Calafans experienced an event known as speciation. That is, the two groups split into two separate and distinct species. This splitting alarmed the governments of both sides and so the dishes were erected.

They kept the two groups – silver Calafans on our side, and copper ones in the mirror – separate, until 2157; when the mirror High Priestess, the teenager Yimar, decided to throw open the doors between the two universes. This was as a byproduct of the Calafans pushing a mirror human over to our universe – Douglas Jay Hayes, who then changed his name to Douglas Jay Hayes Beckett, got married, fathered five children and lived happily on Lafa II. As of 2192, he had been dead for a good decade, and was buried in the back yard of the house that was just down the rise and next to the one with the cheery yellow hall.

But getting back to the house, and its hallway clock. The clock scrolled through the temperature – a balmy 26.67 degrees C – and then the time – 0850 hours – and then the date – May twentieth, 2192.

A man passed by the clock, stepping from the master bedroom to the kitchen. He was lean and still muscular, although his face was lined and his hair was a steely grey. His blue-green eyes sparkled like the sea. He saw a woman in the kitchen, turning the flame off from under a whistling tea kettle. He put a hand on her shoulder, and she turned around.

Her face – already pale as an early spring morning – lit up when she saw him. Her eyes were impossibly light blue. Her hair was white and her face, too, was lined. She smiled broadly. "Good morning, Malcolm."

"Good morning, Lili," his accent was British. They kissed.

"Do you have what to do this morning?" she asked.

"Nothing in particular. I'll probably weed the garden a bit. Why do you ask?"

"Well, I was thinking of going into Fep City and getting you your anniversary present."

"Ten years. It has been like the blinking of an eye," he held her close and the light from the ceiling fixture glinted off a dull grey cuff with complicated scrollwork that he wore on his left wrist. The scrollwork very nearly matched silvery tattoos that snaked up her arms.

"It's been wonderful," she agreed, "you make me very happy," she paused, "Joss might be over later with little Jay. He and Jia want to take us out for our anniversary."

"That would be lovely," Malcolm said, "now, Mrs. Reed, can you do me a favor and show me, in the garden, which are the plants we keep, and which are the weeds? Don't want to discard a carrot or anything."

"Sure."

"Oh, and is there room to plant tofflin?"

"Why ever would you want to plant tofflin?" Lili asked, "It's invasive."

"Doctor Sanchez said …."

"Sanchez? Are you ill?" she was worried.

"No, not really. I just, well, certain things could be, uh, a bit better. My, uh, my performance."

She kissed him. "Malcolm, you're almost eighty years old."

"I, I know. And I want to be around a long time from now, and I want you to be around and, and enjoying our time together."

"We have the best dreams," she said.

"I don't disagree. But I just, I miss a bit of in-person, uh, activity. I want to try to remedy that a bit."

"What did Sanchez say?" she asked.

"He said that there's a traditional remedy. It's to brew a kind of tea from the roots of the tofflin plant."

"But tofflin is laced with caffeine. I get the feeling that's not the kind of a stimulant you _really_ want."

"He said that the roots don't have caffeine. It's, it's _something else_."

"Is this _something else_ safe for human consumption? I don't want you to be poisoning yourself for the sake of a roll in the hay, my love."

"He said," he opened the door and they walked out to the garden, "that the substance was analyzed and found to be nontoxic to humans, but he admitted that its efficacy had not yet really been tested in us."

"Hmm, well tofflin grows fast. I'm sure if we planted it today, we could have enough for our anniversary on the twenty-fifth."

"And then we'll have a nice cuppa," he said, "or at least I will, for I don't know if it's recommended for ladies, and about an hour later, we'll make love."

"I will be happy no matter how well it works, or even if it doesn't work at all." They kissed. She looked up at the sky. "Huh, that's odd."

"What are you seeing?" he asked, "you know my eyes are going a bit."

"There, look in the sky, it's a wave." She pointed.

"If we were in space, I would have sworn that that was a, a kind of energy wave. I recall seeing it a good, what was it, twenty years ago?"

"Thirty," she said, "The kids were small. Declan and Neil weren't even born yet. And, hmm, that time, you didn't see a wave when it was in an atmosphere, but I remember. It was, the sky opened up, and it was particles that flew from one side to the other. It, it was a bridge from, well, it bridged both sides of the pond."

"In space, it was hazardous. I recall Agent Daniels came and told us to strengthen the hull. And we did, but then you and Douglas helped to fix things, and that was that," he kissed her cheek.

=/\=

 _Douglas_.

He was her first husband, gone for a decade, buried in her son Joss's back yard next door. Lili missed Doug, and thought about him pretty much every day, and dreamt of him if she was asleep by herself. If she and Malcolm were both asleep, though, they could share dreams, as the silvery scrollwork on her arms was a form of painted-on calloo that was made of an amplifier material and made her a conduit for shared dreaming. The cuff he wore – a gift from her – was composed of the same material.

Her second marriage was a happy one, as wonderful as her first had been, albeit different. The first one had been open – she and Malcolm had been lovers while she was still married to Doug, and Doug had his own side romance, with a woman named Melissa Madden. The arrangement was complex but they had done their best to respect each other.

And five children had been born. Joss and Marie Patrice were Lili's children with Doug. His children with Melissa were Tommy and Neil, and Kevin, who had died young. And the sixth child, the only one not fathered by Doug, was Declan – Lili's with Malcolm.

The youngest two surviving ones were twenty-nine. Tommy and Marie Patrice were both thirty-two. Joss, the eldest, was nearly thirty-four. Kevin, if he had lived, would have been almost fifteen.

Only Joss and Neil were currently living on Lafa II. Declan was temporarily staying in Leicester, England, near his Aunt Madeline. Marie Patrice was opening up a business on Andoria. As for Tommy, he was an Ensign serving Captain Erika Hernandez on the _DC-1502_.

=/\=

But now, on the twentieth of May of 2192, there were lights in the sky, and it was incoherent and pulsing and strange, and frightening. Lili and Malcolm knew that the last time they had seen this, it had been Empress Hoshi Sato, trying to open up the passageway between the two universes, to come in _from_ the mirror.

What they didn't know was that, this time, it was Milton and Helen Walker, trying to open up a passageway between the two universes, to go out _to_ the mirror.

And to the Empress Hoshi Sato.

=/\=

 _They don't write 'em like that anymore_

 _They don't write 'em like that anymore  
_

\- Greg Kihn Band (The Breakup Song)


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

 _Yeah, I'm sittin' on this bar stool talking like a damn fool_

 _Got the twelve o'clock news blues_

 _And I've given up hope for the afternoon soaps_

 _And a bottle of cold brew_

 _Is it any wonder I'm not crazy?_

 _Is it any wonder I'm sane at all?_

\- Styx (Too Much Time on my Hands)

=/\=

"Daddy, this damned time ship is running too hot!" Helen complained as they approached Lafa II.

"Well, try going close to the ground, and fire the pulse shot close, too. I'll jump out and hop across if I have to," replied a somewhat peeved Milton.

"Hmm, there," she said, beginning a lower approach vector and firing a pulse shot, in the sky right above where an elderly human couple was standing.

"How soon until it opens up and we can scoot through to the mirror?" he asked.

"Less than a minute."

=/\=

And below, Lili and Malcolm felt a wind, and turned, and saw the ship. "That, that arrowhead shape," he said, "I believe Agent Daniels had a ship like that, if I am recalling correctly."

"I believe you are," Lili replied, "so maybe Rick's dropping in for a visit."

"Well, he should have called first."

"I'm not so sure he can do that from 3109 or whatever his current year is." She started to wave, and yelled, "Richard!"

The wave opened up a portal between the two universes. The other side shimmered coppery, and glowed like the embers of a thousand dying fires.

The ship swooped past and slipped through the portal, which slammed shut behind it.

"Perhaps he couldn't stay," Malcolm said.

"I don't think it was him," Lili replied, "His ship was the _Wells_. This ship, it went by really fast and I didn't see the name too clearly, but I think it was something like _X Cap_."

"That's a strange name," he said.

"I'm going to go into Fep City now," she said, "you'll let me know in case we get some unexpected company? I love you."

"Of course. I love you, too, Mrs. Reed."

=/\=

"So," Yilta ventured, "I wanna apologize for last night."

"Uh, apologize?" Kevin asked.

"Yeah. I woke up and, it was the oddest thing, but I was back at my home. Even odder was the fact that I was somehow still married to Darywev," she said.

"Huh, how weird. Was, uh, was your daughter alive?"

"No, unfortunately, Brinka was – her short life was completely unchanged. She was born without calloo, couldn't survive for long, and died. The difference was that Darywev and I hadn't divorced over that."

"Were you, uh, were you getting along?" he asked.

"No, not really. We had a petty fight over what to have for our breakfast. I got myself here as fast as I could. I can see why they don't like us straying too far before a line's restored."

"Yeah, I guess I can see that."

"So, Kevin," she came close, "what happened to you last night?"

=/\=

"I was reading about this mission," Rick said, while Polly flew the _HG Wells_ and Alice sat and more or less quietly fumed. "The assassination occurs while Sadat is reviewing troops during an annual victory parade. The night before, there's a major state dinner. I think it'd be helpful for us to go to that. It would really help to legitimize our presence, as I feel we need to be physically close to Sadat when the shooting starts. A lot of people are hit. But we have to make sure that he's one of them."

"Hear that?" Polly said to Alice, "a state dinner! You should be good at that."

"It'll still be a hotbed of heathens," Alice snapped.

"Like we've said, it should be a joy for you to make sure so many of them are shot," Rick said, "Alice, you'll be my wife for this. Polly, you'll, uh, huh, I dunno."

"I'll be your mother-in-law," Polly smiled wickedly, "rounding 2650."

=/\=

Lili got into Fep City before the traffic really started to get bad. Her stop was the transport station, where she met a young man who was identical to Malcolm, save that he had her very light coloring. "Declan!" she exclaimed when she saw him.

"Mum!" they hugged.

"Your father doesn't suspect a thing," Lili said, "so you'll stay with Neil until the twenty-fifth. Make sure to call tomorrow and pretend you're still in England."

"Of course," he replied, "wouldn't want to ruin Dad's surprise."

=/\=

Malcolm clicked open a Communicator. "Melissa Madden, please."

"Hey! I was just about to call you. Marie Patrice got here a few minutes ago."

"Well, I'm glad you didn't call," he said, "for Lili was still here."

"Oh, good thing then," said Melissa, "I don't want to ruin the surprise for the twenty-fifth."

"Can you and Leonora perhaps come here?" he asked. "There's, we think we saw a time ship."

"A time ship?" asked Melissa, "was it Rick Daniels?"

"If it was, he failed to stop. I am guessing it's not. They went into – we believe – into the mirror."

"How odd. Maybe Lili can contact some mirror Calafans through dreams, and see if they know anything," she suggested.

"Good idea. And thank you for putting up Marie Patrice for a few days."

"No trouble when it's family. Norri and I will be right over. Bye."

=/\=

 **On the Defiant, they saw, for they had entered orbit over their version of the Lafa System.**

 **Empress Hoshi looked out the main viewer. "That's, that's strange."**

" **You recognize the configuration, Ma?" asked Jun.**

" **I think so," she said, "I, I wonder if this means Ritchie's still alive somehow."**

 **No one else had called him Ritchie. So Rick went with that whenever he had a mission in the mirror universe. He could not be there between, inclusive, the years 2129 and 2245, but there were plenty of other possible years, and destinations, on that side of the pond.**

=/\=

Sheilagh sat in the _Audrey II_ while HD piloted. "Yanno," he said, "I never told anyone this, but the last time I had this ship, I found something wacky."

"Like what?"

"Well, check the bedroom area. It was on the night stand."

"HD, this is supposed to be Marisol's ship. You should not be snooping around like that," she scolded.

"Who said anything about snooping?" he asked, "It was in plain sight. Just, just look, okay?"

She went into the back and returned with an article in her hand. "A box of tissues? Honestly, you're a bit of a jerk sometimes," she complained.

"I – that is _not_ what I found."

"What _did_ you find?"

"A voice masker."

=/\=

Joss Beckett had been looking out the window of his home. It was next door to the one where Lili – his mother – and Malcolm lived. He clicked open a Communicator. "Yeah, I'd like to speak with Tommy Digiorno-Madden, on the _USS Excelsior._ "

"Hey, big bro!"

"Hey!" Joss smiled, "Look, I can't talk long. Dad's looking like he'll be coming down the rise for a visit soon. Are you definitely coming on the twenty-fifth?"

"Yeah, but I can't stay too long," Tommy said.

"An Ensign's work is never done, eh?"

"Nope. And Ma and Norri don't know, either?"

"Only Jia," Joss looked over and smiled at his wife, who was spoon feeding their young son his breakfast, "and I know. I guess Jay knows but he's not talking. Even Neil will be shocked."

=/\=

Dan piloted as Tom and Marisol sat nearby. "Do we know how the Deepwater Horizon spill was prevented in 2010?" Tom asked.

"I'll look it up." Marisol said, clicking around on her PADD, "Hmm, it appears as if the original spill occurred because there was an explosion due to a buildup of methane gas."

"So the pressure was alleviated somehow?" Dan asked.

"Probably," Tom said, "this may turn into a very dirty job, very quickly."

=/\=

 _I'm so tired of losin'; I've got nothing to do_

 _And all day to do it_

 _So, I go out cruisin', but I've no place to go_

 _And all night to get there_

 _Is it any wonder I'm not a criminal?_

 _Is it any wonder I'm not in jail?_

\- Styx (Too Much Time on my Hands)


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

 _Is it any wonder I've got too much time on my hands?_

 _Ticking away with my sanity_

 _I've got too much time on my hands_

 _It's hard to believe such a calamity_

 _I've got too much time on my hands_

 _And it's ticking away - ticking away from me_

\- Styx (Too Much Time on my Hands)

=/\=

Back in August of 3110, Carmen sent a memo to the engineers – _meet me in Conference Room four_. Then she thought better of it and added Von and Yilta to the distribution list. Then she thought some more and also added their supervisors – Glyph and Kaiwev – to the list. She finally hit _send_.

Kevin and Yilta both heard the chime at the same time. "I, uh, I'll tell you later," he said to her. But what? He wasn't so sure he wanted to tell her – or, really, anyone, for that matter – about Josie being restored. Somehow, to mention it out loud invited the very real possibility of not so much breaking a spell, but of Carmen clamping down on anyone leaving the premises while the line awaited restoration. Unless, of course, someone was going out to fix it.

Carmen stood at the front of the little Conference Room. "Someone here made sure that _Fluxy_ wasn't secured," she said, "and I aim to find out just who that was."

"I trust Yilta," Kaiwev said immediately.

"I understand that," Carmen replied, "and I don't wish to believe it, either, but the fact is, except for the time travelers themselves, these five were the last ones to be anywhere our time ships. Plus, the ship was secured while the others were taking off. I've looked at logs. The breakaway code was entered after the _Jack Finney_ – the last of the other three to take off – had departed."

The breakaway code referred to a code required to perform a few basic lift off tasks, such as release docking clamps, depressurize the bay, open the door, etc. Each time ship in the Temporal Integrity Commission – not just in the Human Unit – had its own unique breakaway code. The codes were not a secret – anyone in the Commission could get them, and for any of the time ships.

"Now, Levi," Carmen said, "you were the one who wanted _Fluxy_ to stay here. Why was that?"

"The, the ship was running hot. It, it probably still is," he said, getting a little defensive, "I just wanted to fix it!"

"Can you confirm how _Fluxy_ was running?" Carmen asked Kevin.

"I can't, but that don't mean much," he said, "whoever took it out last would know."

"So that's Sheilagh, Polly and Marisol," Deirdre said, right?"

"Right, and they're all on assignment," Carmen said.

Deirdre clicked around. "There's nothing in the maintenance notes about _Fluxy_ having any problems whatsoever."

"Levi?" Carmen asked.

"I didn't have the time to enter them!" he said, more defensively.

"See, he's losing his temper," Glyph said.

"And that doesn't mean much," Kevin said, "I mean, we had cut dark matter fuel intake lines recently. The cut marks on all of 'em matched the blades of the garden shears. And Von here does the most gardening of anyone in the entire Commission."

"Anyone can use those shears. I know _she_ did," Von said, indicating Yilta.

"We also had a stolen time ship last year," Carmen said, "it was the old _Audrey Niffenegger_. Somebody handed over the breakaway code to that one while I was interviewing candidates. Actually, it was a group interview. The only one of you who I can account for, from that day, is Deirdre."

"This is pointless and unprofitable," Glyph complained, rising.

"Yet I'm going to persist until I get some answers," Carmen said.

"Still," Glyph continued, "Von needs to work on the _Penar_."

"If you have a problem, I suggest you take it up with Bryce Unger," Carmen glared at him.

" _Women_ ," Von muttered under his breath as Glyph sat back down again.

=/\=

"Whaddaya think we're gonna do in 1998?" HD asked as he piloted the _Audrey II._

"I'm not sure. That's actually when Google was founded. But all of the ideas, well, they're from both before and after that," Sheilagh replied.

"And then there's the matter of the voice masker."

"Let's, um, let's think about that later," she said, "right now, let's just concentrate on 1998."

"We'd better come up with something soon. We just hit 2400."

=/\=

" **I'd better keep this ship," Milton said to Helen, "it's the only way I can get back to your side of the pond."**

" **Right, Daddy. So beam me down to right around those big dishes, then fire a pulse shot. I'll hop through and then I'll swallow trichronium and get myself back to 3110."**

" **And keep our usual temporal alteration parameters in mind. It's gotta be something during the first epoch of the Space Age. And it's gotta be good. Plus always run some sort of a diversion mission and keep Avery in particular away from the others. He saw too much. I don't want him blabbing that to the others. We have been rather lucky so far."**

" **What about Donnie?"**

" **Helen, just let him think he's in charge. But I've changed my mind. Don't give up the Temporal Enhancer cuff – not under any circumstances." He kissed her on the cheek. "In some realities, I will never see you again, you know."**

" **Then let's make sure we get back together, Daddy. Bye."**

 **He beamed her down and then fired the pulse shot. What they did not notice, as she hopped over to the other side – which was not too far from Lili and Malcolm's home – was that she had picked up a hitchhiker.**

=/\=

Helen's passenger was the oddest thing.

Or, _things_.

Why so vague? Because this particular life form was, simply, colonial in nature, much like a coral reef.

Unlike a coral reef, the life form's components were very tiny sentients. Imagine your entire body and its composition of cells. Now imagine your cells with minds of their own.

 _That_ was what was going on with this entity.

It was the entire population of its own species. There were no others like it. Its cellular components would coalesce and divide as they desired, with minimal cooperation, essentially whatever was needed to keep the entity together, but not much more than that. It could become anything its cells desired – a Tarcassian razor beast, a dish of strawberry shortcake complete with a dish and a fork, a Communicator, whatever. The cells could become bigger or smaller as needed, based on their feeding on dark matter or on mimicking invisibility.

It was neither evil nor good it had few motives. But it did have one desire. It had been in the mirror universe for quite a while, and it had piggybacked on various Calafans as they had shunted back and forth from here to the mirror and back again. But its current whim – as voted on by a majority of its cells, for it was, loosely, something of a democracy – was to return to our universe.

And then something rather unexpected happened to it, for its ride swallowed a dose of trichronium and punched a few keys on the Temporal Enhancer cuff. Soon it, and its ride – Helen Walker – were in August of 3110.

=/\=

 **The Empress had been in her Ready Room for a while, straightening up, putting clean sheets on the cot – normally, that was not a task for her, but she wanted to get it done – and then fixing her hair and makeup.**

" **Ma, you okay in there? That ship has docked with us," Kira said from the door. He had just wandered over from the Science Station.**

" **How do I look?" she asked.**

" **Uh, good like you always do, Ma," he said.**

 **She nodded at him. "Jun, you and Kira are coming with me. Aidan, take the Bridge." She and her sons walked out and she turned to them and said, "Jun, it's about time you met your father."**

=/\=

 _Too much time on my hands_

 _(T-T-T-T-T-Ticking away)_

 _Too much time on my hands_

 _(And I don't know what to do with myself)_

 _Too much time on my hands_

\- Styx (Too Much Time on my Hands)


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

 _Too much time on my hands_

 _Too much time on my hands_

 _Too much time on my hands_

\- Styx (Too Much Time on my Hands)

=/\=

 **The airlock opened between the Defiant and the Flux Capacitor. Empress Hoshi smiled her biggest smile. "Ritchie!" she exclaimed.**

 **And then she saw the fellow who emerged, "You're not Ritchie Daniels," she complained.**

" **Uh, no," he said, "my name is Milton Walker." He looked her up and down. The years had not been kind, but now he had a chance at least. It had been a long time – too long. "I am from his era, though. And that ship is a time ship. If we get acquainted I could, perhaps, show you how to use it."**

" **Then perhaps we should get acquainted", she said, coming closer. She glared at her two eldest sons. "Get back to your posts."**

" **Does Aidan still have the Bridge?" Jun asked.**

" **Yes!" she snapped, then turned to Milton, "Martin, is it?"**

" **Milton."**

" **I've always loved that name.** _Paradise Lost_ **, right?" she smiled and beckoned at him to follow her. "Let's talk in my quarters. It's quieter there."**

=/\=

At home, Helen changed and then got into bed to watch a few hours on the viewer. Her unseen passenger slipped away and traveled out along an arm of our barred spiral galaxy. It was good to be back in the universe which vibrated on a twenty-one centimeter radiation band, but the entity was a little disoriented as to time and place.

It had been through timeline changes before – that part was not foreign to it. But the huge temporal displacement was unnerving to its many sentient cells.

Plus, the universe had changed, for everything had moved forward just under 920 years. The stars, planets, pulsars, black holes and nebulae had all shifted a bit. It surveyed its altered domain and found it to be more than a little bit interesting.

It finally ended up heading to a small, benzene-soaked planet that had no other inhabitants and would be a good place to sit and think for a while. It was near the galactic barrier, too, a fact that was most appealing, for the entity was a bit, shall we say, homesick.

For it was not from the Milky Way galaxy at all but, rather the Triangulum galaxy. And near the galactic boundary, near a ship called the _USS Saint Eligius_ , and not too far from another, larger ship, called the _USS Adrenaline_ , there was that little uninhabited world. It was called _Berren One._

=/\=

"This is gonna be a dirty business. I don't see any way around it," Tom said.

"I feel like my talents are being wasted," Marisol complained.

"Well, then talk to Carmen next time if ya'll don't like the assignment," Tom snapped, "but in the meantime, once we get to Earth, we gotta cap a methane gas flow and make sure the pressure builds up. This should lead to Deepwater Horizon exploding all over again."

"How do you propose to get in there?" Dan asked.

"We pose as inspectors," Tom replied.

"We'll need good credentials. This is post-9/11; they'll be checking IDs carefully," Dan stated.

"Right," Tom said, "Y'know, to be inspectors, we probably need to be less casually dressed. Can you head back to the replicator, Marisol, and get us some more, I dunno, authoritarian clothing?" She gave him a bit of a bored look so he added, "Please?"

She got up and did as asked, and then busied herself changing in the little bathroom. "I realize this is probably dull for her," Tom said, "but really, she's gotta be more professional about these things. We got a job to do. We need to just do it."

"What do you think of her?" Dan asked.

"That's outta left field, Beauchaine."

"Just askin'."

"I got a girl. You _know_ this," Tom said. That brought his worry right back to the fore. He truly, honestly, hoped that Eleanor would be somehow restored by the time he got back.

"I said, Grant, that I'm only askin' 'cause I want to, yanno, make a move!" Dan repeated as he flew the ship.

"Oh. Well, uh, go ahead, I guess." He got up. "Here, I'll give you the means." As Marisol returned to the piloting area, he passed her and went into the bedroom to change and leave them alone together.

=/\=

" **So tell me, Milton, what brings you to my, uh, neck of the woods?" Hoshi asked.**

" **I've had a few, uh, issues with the other side of the pond," he admitted.**

" **You a bit of an outlaw?" she purred, "I find them rather ... romantic."**

" **Let's just say that there are certain rules that I didn't feel like following," he said. No sense in telling her he'd been a monk, for gosh's sake! "I prefer to make my own rules."**

" **That's one of the perks of power. You get to set the agenda."**

" **Power is rather intoxicating," he said, "as is control. But neither are as intoxicating as –"**

 **There was a Communications chime.**

 **Angrily, the Empress answered it. "What the hell do you want? I am busy."**

" **Ma, we're picking up some transmissions from Lafa II," Jun reported.**

" **So?"**

" **So they're about contraband starship parts. You were right. Can't tell yet if the main manufacturing is done here, but some of the stuff is definitely coming from here."**

" **On my way," she said, and closed the link. She turned to Milton. "We'll, uh, pick this back up later. In the meantime, come to the Bridge and you can watch me subjugate some inferiors."**

=/\=

"What's going on?" Marisol asked. "You know we aren't supposed to be spending time together if we can help it. It's not good for the Perf – our friends."

"It's okay, I told him I wanted to ask you out," Dan replied.

She glared at him. "He's a pain. It would probably be a good use of our time to just off him. I had instructions – did you know about them? – to see to it that Daniels met his end."

"But he didn't," Dan steered. "Rounding 2080 and switching to spatial, cloaked flight."

"It's proven easier to keep him around – at least for now. But it would be easy. This drilling platform is out to sea. It's a simple matter to entomb a body inside the equipment. Pressure, oil fumes, water, then eventually fire and smoke? It would be a simple matter." She smiled craftily.

"You really mean this."

"Of course I do. Have you forgotten what your real job is, Mister Beauchaine? Or are you too busy being chummy? Keep focused. You can have only one master."

=/\=

In 3110, they were still sitting together, still stalemated, when the alarms went off. "Damn!" Carmen swore. "We're not finished yet."

=/\=

 _Now, I'm a jet-fuel genius_

 _I can solve the world's problems without even trying_

 _I got dozens of friends, and the fun never ends_

 _That is, as long as I'm buying_

 _Is it any wonder I'm not the President?_

 _Is it any wonder I'm null and void?_

\- Styx (Too Much Time on my Hands)


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

 _Is it any wonder I've got too much time on my hands?_

 _Ticking away with my sanity_

 _I've got too much time on my hands_

 _It's hard to believe such a calamity_

 _I've got too much time on my hands_

 _And it's ticking away - ticking away from me_

\- Styx (Too Much Time on my Hands)

=/\=

Dan had several selections when it came to who to be loyal to, and who to, truly, work for. The myriad of choices was beginning to wear on him, and to confuse him a little bit.

Just _who_ was his master?

During the last major timeline disruption, he had had to assure that nearly two dozen children lost their lives in the Oklahoma City Bombing. And he had taken part in that temporal restoration, not only to keep his place at the Temporal Integrity Commission, but also because that temporal disruption had wiped out his family. It was a situation that had affected him more deeply than he had realized at the time.

And now the same scenario was presenting itself, all over again. Once more, his family was wiped. And once more, he had to perform a morally unpleasant task in order to get them back. To cause, again, the destruction of Deepwater Horizon meant not only the deaths of some eleven crewmen on the Gulf of Mexico, but also an enormous environmental cataclysm and an economic recession in the area. It was perhaps not as gut-wrenching as several deceased minors, but bad enough.

And now Marisol was proposing offing Tom Grant, as casually as she might have suggested that they get a cheeseburger.

 _Want fries with that?_

 _Sure, just after I kill a friend._

He didn't have to listen to Marisol, and he definitely didn't _want_ to. But he was mindful of the fact that she had been with both the Perfectionists and the Temporal Integrity Commission longer than he had been. He wanted to retain his place in both, despite his mounting confusions.

=/\=

 **A copper Calafan female answered their Communications hail. "I am Yimar, the High Priestess."**

" **Yeah, yeah, yeah," said Hoshi, "we know you're manufacturing contraband starship parts. You have a week to stop. Then we'll start destroying cities."**

" **But –"**

" **Sato out," she looked around the Bridge and then smiled at Milton. "Come with me. And Jun? No interruptions unless they surrender. We'll be … busy."**

 **The door to the Ready Room closed behind them, and Jun and Kira were left to imagine what their mother was doing with – and to – Milton Walker.**

=/\=

The change rippled through time and Otra collapsed in the cafeteria. Fortunately, she had been lunching with Boris. He held her head to keep her from accidentally injuring herself.

When she finally came to, he asked her, "How bad is it?"

"I need to tell Carmen," she replied.

=/\=

Carmen ended up calling the rest of the team to Conference Room four. It was standing room only. "Well?"

"It was the mirror, I am quite sure," Otra began, "I saw a pitched battle. The _Defiant_ was battling six other Constitution class ships."

Kevin nodded.

"So it was, perhaps, about 2200 or so?" Carmen asked.

"Close to it, I think," Otra replied, "then the vision shifted, and it was the Breen destroying the Terran Empire."

"That certainly didn't happen before," Deirdre said, checking her PADD.

"Do you have any idea when the Breen overran the Terran Empire?" Carmen inquired.

"No idea. The only ship I saw during the Breen attack was a Constitution class – the _ISS Molotov_."

Crystal clicked around. "In the original history, the _Molotov_ was commissioned in 2365, under a Captain Simpson Keller. By ten years later, it's under a Captain Alexander Bashir, who keeps it until the ship is finally destroyed, in 2418."

"That's a very long time to be a Captain in any universe. But in the mirror? That's an unbeatable record," Kevin said, "Forty-three years! Holy cow."

"Try to see if you can get any new reality information from the mirror," Carmen said, "I know they're not very cooperative most of the time. Just, do your best. Let's adjourn."

Everyone left except for Deirdre. "Carmen," she said, "I don't know who failed to secure _Fluxy_. All I can tell you is that it wasn't me. And I know you don't know who or what to believe. I, I don't blame you. I just hope I can prove myself to you, somehow," she left.

"You may just have," Carmen said softly, to the empty Conference Room.

=/\=

April of 2010 and Texas was already hot and sticky. Marisol kept checking herself in a mirror. "My hair is halfway to Mars!" she lamented.

"Ya'll look fine," Tom assured her.

They managed to get onto the platform. "These surprise inspections are getting to be more and more of a pain all the time," complained a worker.

"Your safety is our primary concern," Dan said, "now, you said you were having some problems with the methane flow regulator valve?"

"Yes," replied the worker, "it's stuck real bad."

"Let's see what we can do," Tom said, taking his suit jacket off, "show me where the problem is."

They pulled at the valve with wrenches while Marisol stood there, bored, and inspected her manicure.

"She ever do anything?" asked one of the workers, indicating Marisol.

"Uhh …" Dan wasn't sure of what to say.

"Affirmative action, huh?" snickered one of the workers.

"Yeah, I guess so," Tom said, silently vowing to look the term up on his PADD once they were done.

"There," Dan finally said, "looks like it's closed now."

"Thanks," said a worker, "the inspectors usually don't like to get down and dirty. I'm genuinely surprised you fellas weren't like her, that you didn't just stand around."

"Well, we wanna see you succeed," Tom said.

"That's kind of you."

=/\=

Cairo in 1981 was beautiful. "Look, you can see the pyramids in the distance," Polly said, "I've always wanted to go to Egypt."

"Hell, we restore the line, maybe you can pay a visit to old King Tut," Rick said.

"Another heathen," Alice snarled, but then she suddenly looked strange.

"You all right?" asked Polly.

Alice shook her head a few times, as if to clear cobwebs. "How odd. I feel like I've been saying things I don't really mean."

=/\=

And that made perfect sense, for Otra was hit with another vision. It wasn't due to them being in Cairo. Rather, it was due to the now-stuck methane gas valve on Deepwater Horizon.

"I saw, it looked like a Natural History museum," she reported directly to Carmen, "and it said that a number of bird species from the Gulf of Mexico were extinct."

"I guess that means Thomas and his crew succeeded. Good to know."

=/\=

 _Too much time on my hands_

 _(T-T-T-T-T-Ticking away)_

 _Too much time on my hands_

 _(And I don't know what to do with myself)_

 _Too much time on my hands_

 _Too much time on my hands_

 _(T-T-T-Ticking away)_

 _Too much time on my hands_

 _Too much time on my hands_

 _(Too much time on my hands)_

 _(Too much time on my...)_

\- Styx (Too Much Time on my Hands)


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

 _Where do we go from here now that all other children are growin' up?_

 _And how do we spend our lives if there's no-one to lend us a hand_

 _I don't wanna live here no more, I don't wanna stay_

 _Ain't gonna spend the rest of my life, quietly fading away_

\- The Alan Parsons Project (Games People Play)

=/\=

They beat a hasty retreat from Deepwater Horizon. "We should check news sources for tomorrow," Tom said, "and confirm if we succeeded."

"Right," Dan said absently. They were back on the shore and he looked out onto the Gulf. It seemed peaceful and gorgeous. No – the correct word was _serene_.

"I'm about ready to go back to the ship," Tom yawned.

"There is only one good place to sleep in there," Marisol pointed out. "If we are staying in this time period anyway, two of us might as well sleep on the surface."

"Hmm, Grant, can I talk to you a sec?" Dan asked.

"'Course."

They walked several meters away. "I think I might have a chance," Dan said, eying Marisol.

"I dunno," Tom said, "she's aloof even under the best of circumstances."

"Still. Please don't begrudge me this. You got Eleanor and all."

 _If_ she was restored. Tom felt a pang, again, thinking of her, somehow, consigned to oblivion.

"Grant, are you paying attention?"

"Huh? I guess not. Uh, tell you what, stay on the surface but lemme beam you somewhere away from here. By the time they figure out there's an issue, we need to be outta here."

"Right," Dan said, and then he approached Marisol, "I, uh, you're right about getting a hotel. But Tom says not around here."

"Oh? You think you're coming with me?"

"We'll be able to talk," he explained quietly, "about, uh, _you know_.'

"Very well," she said, "but if you think you are going to get to touch any part of me, you are sorely mistaken," she paused, then, louder, so that Tom could hear, she added, "Mister Beauchaine and I would like to go to, uh, Rome."

"Sure thing."

=/\=

Kevin was busy leaning over the _Audrey Niffenegger_ – the only time ship currently available to the Human Unit. If Carmen needed it, Kevin would make sure that _Audrey_ was ready to go, even though she – _Audrey_ , not Carmen – was painfully slow and clunky. He didn't hear Yilta enter the service bay. "Huh? Oh, hi."

"Can ya tell me now?"

"Uh, tell you what now? And, uh, please, can I have the magnetic wrench? Thanks."

"Where ya were last night, what happened to ya?"

"I, I was at home," he said cautiously.

"Why didn't ya try to call when you noticed I was missing?" she asked, a little sharply.

He kept working, unsure of what to tell her.

"Kevin, do ya mind answerin' that one?"

He finally straightened up. "I, I can't say."

"I don't understand what you're sayin'."

He sighed. "This was a big line change," he finally explained, "and, and I wonder if making Deepwater Horizon explode again has been enough to, to put a, a certain thing back."

She stared at him, thinking. Finally, she said, "My ex-husband came back. It, it was as if he had never left. And he couldn't understand why I, I was kinda cold to him," she paused, "and now, are ya tellin' me, that I wasn't the only one who, who had that kind of an, an experience?"

He nodded. "I, I didn't know what to, to tell you. And I am, right now, I can't tell you how scared I am, to either beam over to Andoria, or open up a Communicator channel to there, because, well, because I know that, at some point, I'm gonna go there, or, or I'll call, and she'll, she'll be gone again. And I, yanno, I went through losing her once already. I can't bear the thought of going through another round of it. Even if it isn't Piaris Syndrome this time. Even if it's just she's here today, gone tomorrow. I was almost recovered – _almost_! And now …."

"Kevin," she said gently, putting a hand on his arm, "ever since there started to be all these temporal disruptions with that Perfectionists group tryin' to mess around with the human line, things have affected us, too. And it's wrenching, yanno. It gets you all turned around. My parents are supposed to be gone, yet maybe eight months ago, they were briefly alive."

"What did you do?"

"I told 'em I loved 'em. Now, I had said that many, many times before, but it was important to me to, to kinda get that in one last time."

"I –"

"Go home," she said, "and if Josie is there, get in your last _good-byes_ and _I love yous_ and anything else ya need to do."

"You're being very, very, I dunno what the word is – amazing, yes, that's it – _amazing_ about this. Not to question you but, uh, why?"

"I know that when the line's restored, she will be gone. I know you can't promise that all will be well between us when that happens, but I do hold out hope for that." She left.

He sighed and went back to working on _Audrey_.

=/\=

"Things you don't really mean?" Rick asked as they stood in the Cairo early evening light. "What kinds of things?"

"I'm not sure," Alice said, "I mean, I know we're in Cairo to assure an assassination. And I know that we're going to a banquet tonight. After that, it's a tad unclear."

"What do you think of the Egyptian people?" Polly asked, point blank.

"I don't know," Alice said, "I mean, most people call them heathens, but I wasn't raised that way."

=/\=

"Menlo Park, California!" Sheilagh smiled, and then frowned a little, "air's kinda smoggy."

"I wonder if that's some sort of an effect from the temporal disruption in 1981," HD mused.

"You may be right," they stood outside a small coffee shop. "Now, let's go meet Google's founders."

=/\=

 **They emerged from the Ready Room after a few hours. "That's enough conquering for one day," the Empress said. "Maybe tomorrow you'll let me play with your … time ship."**

" **I don't know," Milton said, mindful of the fact that she was still, in her sixties, rather captivating, had enormous amounts of power and he didn't have many bargaining chips. He sensed she would not want to buy the cow if she could get the milk for free, so he vowed to hold off, at least for a while, on giving her that.**

 **As for giving her other things, it had been a long, long time, a long drought of celibacy. Like Andrew Miller, Travis Mayweather and countless others before him, he had succumbed, for she had been impossible to resist.**

=/\=

 _Games people play, you take it or you leave it_

 _Things that they say are not right_

 _If I promise you the moon and the stars, would you believe it?_

 _Games people play in the middle of the night_

\- The Alan Parsons Project (Games People Play)


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

 _Where do we go from here now that all of the children have grown up_

 _And how do we spend our time knowin' nobody gives us a damn_

 _I don't wanna live here no more, I don't wanna stay_

 _Ain't gonna spend the rest of my life, quietly fading away_

\- The Alan Parsons Project (Games People Play)

=/\=

The colony entity sensed what was coming before anyone else did. Then again, it knew about what was coming. No one else did.

The entity was out there, past the galactic barrier, with a clear, straight shot to the Triangulum galaxy, its erstwhile original home. But it had moved, first to Andromeda and then to the Milky Way. And that had seemed to somehow be a better fit. It had left Triangulum, and then Andromeda, not just to explore new places.

It had also been driven out.

And it sensed – before anyone else – that the race that had exiled it unjustly, twice, had found it again. That race – the Varg-i-yeh – would not rest until the colony entity was exterminated.

The Varg-i-yeh had more on their minds than committing genocide on the colony entity. They wanted no less than to subjugate entire galaxies, thereby making the Borg look like pikers.

Triangulum had been a snap, a cosmic blink of a purple eye. And then they had moved onto Andromeda, taking whatever they wanted. They were loaded for bear, and ruthless. Mercy was an alien concept to them.

The colony entity had proven to be a threat back in Triangulum, for the colony could become most shapes, colors and textures although it could not alter its own mass, save through the conventional methods of ingestion and excretion. It was, in some ways, superior to other shapeshifters as it could hold shapes for hours – for years if necessary, as it certainly didn't care. And it had the patience and fortitude to mimic just about anyone or anything. It had spent its exile hiding out in the mirror universe, watching others go back and forth, and it had perfected its mimicry of others.

The entity hadn't liked what the Varg-i-yeh had been doing, and so it had fought back.

But it had just whizzed through Andromeda for the most part, as the Varg-i-yeh had been in hot pursuit but the trail, for the Varg-i-yeh, had grown cold between the two galaxies. And so Andromeda was falling even faster than Triangulum had.

The Varg-i-yeh were virtually unaffected by the temporal changes that the Perfectionists had wrought. They did not know from oil spills or political assassinations or the founding of a revolutionary software company. The deaths of rock stars or Oklahoma City office workers meant as little to it as did the question of whether Josie O'Connor was here or elsewhere, perhaps in a heaven or an afterlife if such things exist.

All the Varg-i-yeh knew was power.

One warning went out. The Zetal were a species that had had some contact with the Milky Way. The contact was ancient, even earlier than when Milton had crossed over. Long ago, in the late 2150s, the Zetal had sought Warp-capable species from the Milky Way. The intention was to bring them to Andromeda for war games on a grand scale. The Witannen – long before treaties and peace – were charged with the collections, helped by an enormously physically powerful mercenary species, the Imvari.

But that was in the past. The Zetal had made some advances and some gestures. They still loved their war games, but realized that, perhaps, there would be an opportunity to still have them played by Milky Way denizens, only this time it would be on a voluntary basis.

And then the Varg-i-yeh had come, and there was no time for fooling around.

=/\=

"Yanno, why don't we just go in?" Rick asked Alice and Polly. "I realize you might be a bit out of it," he said directly to Alice, "but it looks to me like you can function tonight. Can you?"

"Yes, I can," she replied, "You have the invitations?"

"I do," he presented two envelopes from a jacket pocket, "Mr. and Mrs. Richard Daniels and Mrs. Polly Porter."

"Call me Mom," Polly reminded Alice.

"Of course."

The ballroom was beautiful. Dignitaries of all sorts were present. Some of the women were veiled, but many were not. People were speaking all sorts of languages. A quick tap on the left ear – to jog their Universal Translators and get them to switch modes – would make first Arabic, then English, and even Turkish instantly comprehensible.

There were young trophy wives, older first wives and even a few celebrity types. The time period differed, but Polly could still readily recognize a starlet when she saw one.

One woman seemed to be particularly captivating. Rick checked a PADD surreptitiously and determined she was Queen Noor of Jordan, who had grown up as Lisa Halaby in New York and Massachusetts.

He was about ready to hit on her when Alice pulled on his arm. "Don't forget, you're here with the missus."

"And her mother," Polly added, laughing a little.

"Right, yeah," he said, "lost my head there for a second. Food?"

There were small tables and no assigned seats. "Sure," said Polly, grabbing a table.

A waltz began to play. "How about a dance first, Mister Daniels?" Alice asked.

Rick swallowed hard. The last time he'd danced, it had been with Milena. And the time before that, he and Sheilagh had been shot at. His track record was clearly not the best.

"Agent Daniels?" it was Alice.

"Oh, sorry. Sure, let's dance," he took her in his arms and they began to move.

Polly watched from her little table, nibbling on a plate of dates. "Is this seat taken?" it was a man's voice.

"Uh, no," she said.

He was dark, with a moustache, and was speaking Arabic. She could tell that much. "You are an American?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. No sense in explaining where she was really from – Betazed. "My name is Polly Porter."

"How charming," he said, "even for an American. I am Saddam Hussein."

=/\=

The coffee shop was crowded. Sheilagh scanned around, searching. "Wait, there," she said, "I'm about ninety percent sure it's those two guys."

There were two men with laptop computers, sitting at a corner table, oblivious to everyone around them.

HD and Sheilagh approached them. One of them said, "What I wouldn't give to have Internet access right here. Wouldn't that be great, Sergey?"

"It would, Larry", replied Sergey. He paused. "Yanno, it's funny. There is so much information out there. But so much is just not parsed properly. How does the average user know that one weather site is better than any other?"

"Well, the Weather Channel is good," Larry replied.

"Right. But what if I'm looking for weather for some place they don't cover, like Russia? Or what if the Weather Channel – a fairly-well recognized authority – did not exist? What about for topics where there is no agreed-upon authority, or at least there isn't one that's reasonably unbiased? I can't tell if one site is staffed by meteorologists and another one is just a buncha guys just wetting a finger and sticking it in the air to see which way the wind is blowing."

"Right. And there's also – can you ever find _anything_? Larry asked. "There's a good ten million web pages out there as of this very moment. More are being created every day."

"And any number of them are being altered, too," he companion interrupted.

"Understood. So you look for something, and if you don't know it's exact name, you're screwed!"

"Use Yahoo," Sergey said.

"They don't have everything."

"No one has everything," Sheilagh interrupted. "But you've got a chance to get most of what's out there, if you use a large-scale hypertextual web search engine."

"You're using our terms. You must've read our paper at Stanford," Sergey said.

"I did," she said, "So, what if you had an algorithm that ranked web pages? It could rank them in terms of not only popularity but also on how well they matched up with their stated goals. Let's call those key words. If a website said it was about, I dunno, tigers, and it was a good, informative site about tigers, then it should rise to the top of the results that are spat back when you do a search for information on tigers."

"And," HD added, "if it was wrong, or if it said it was gonna be about tigers, but it turned out to be about rabbits instead – that is, it didn't come through as expected – it should sink to the bottom. And that could even be a clue to the writer of that page that the page needed to be fixed."

=/\=

Kevin was still working on _Audrey_ when he heard a Communications chime. "Yeah, O'Connor here."

It was Josie. "I was thinking," she said, "you come home early, and we'll open a bottle of wine, and, uh, well, some things are better explained in person."

He hesitated for a moment. The last time she'd behaved this way had been only when they had first married. Illness had quickly robbed her of her sexiness – not only her looks, but also her drive. "I, uh …"

"Don't tell me you've got someone with you," she teased, "'cause I want you all to myself."

"I'll see if I can leave early."

=/\=

 _Games people play, you take it or leave it_

 _Things that they say, just don't make it right_

 _If I'm tellin' you the truth right now, do you believe it?_

 _Games people play in the middle of the night_

\- The Alan Parsons Project (Games People Play)


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

 _Games people play, you take it or you leave it_

 _Things that they say are not right_

 _If I promise you the moon and the stars, would you believe it?_

 _Games people play in the middle of the night_

\- The Alan Parsons Project (Games People Play)

=/\=

Carmen heard a Communications chime in her left ear. "Calavicci here."

Bryce Unger was calling. "We've received a rather interesting incoming transmission," he said.

"Oh? Tell me more."

"We heard from the Zetal. Do you recall who they are?"

"Kindly refresh my memory," she said.

"They're one of our only connections to the Andromeda galaxy," he said.

"How very interesting. And what did our neighbors have to say?"

"They don't contact us too terribly often," he reminded her, "this is a species which, several hundred years ago, kidnapped a number of humanoid species for the purposes of staging full-scale war games. It's rather interesting that they were collecting humanoids, seeing as they are far from being humanoid themselves."

"That is a bit ironic," she paused, "and?"

"Well, they felt a bit badly when they were found out, lo those many years ago. We haven't exactly made friends with them, but we coexist well enough," he said, "No wars or anything."

"But we haven't kissed and made up?"

"No. but they've contacted us now anyway. It's, well, it's a warning."

"A _warning_?"

"There is a violent species, it's actually – they think – from the Triangulum galaxy."

"Triangulum, huh," she had a view of the Milky Way. She'd have to go to one of the offices on the other side – Dan's would be good – to get a view of it.

" _Carmen_!"

"Oh, sorry. A bit of woolgathering there."

"Not to worry," he said, "but you and your people will have to get up to speed quickly."

"What? Except for Grant, my people aren't soldiers."

"True," he allowed, "but we're directly in the path."

"So we should move the _Adrenaline._ "

"We will," he said, "but our understanding is that that won't be enough. We will need to make a stand," he said, "It must begin, and end, here."

"Then get my people out of here," she said, "I won't have them kept in harm's way."

"No, Carmen," he said, "this species has a propulsive system that works directly with time travel. All of our member species are going to be tasked with repairing timelines. Call a meeting, once your travelers are back. I'll pass as much data to you as we've got. Oh, and one more thing."

"Yes?"

"Tell your people that, unless it's for the express purpose of line correction, they are to stay in until further notice. No exceptions, Carmen."

"No one's going to like that."

=/\=

"I don't think I know you," Anwar Sadat said to Rick and Alice as the dance finished. "Then again, I don't know everyone here, do I, Jehan?"

"Neither of us do," replied his wife, smiling.

"We're with the American Embassy," Rick said, using their cover story, "Thank you for having us."

"And my mother is visiting Egypt for the first time," Alice said, "I want to thank you for being so gracious as to allow me to bring her along."

"But of course," Sadat said, "the lady did not need to stay alone in the hotel room. Ah, I see her over there. I do hope Saddam is behaving himself."

=/\=

He wasn't.

"I am married, you see," he said to Polly, "but my wife, she does not understand me."

"Oh, really?" Polly rolled her eyes. 1981 or 3110, it was the same tired old story. That was a classic dodge for a guy who was just out for an affair.

"It is the truth," he said, "you should see Baghdad. _The Arabian Nights_ – do you know the stories?"

"I've heard some of them."

"They can truly come alive in Baghdad. You could be my very special guest," he said, leering at her.

Rick and Alice came over, "Mother," Alice said, "come meet our gracious host and hostess."

Polly got up quickly. "Lovely to meet you," she said quickly to Saddam Hussein. Once they were comfortably far enough away, she turned to Alice and thanked her profusely.

"Oh, it's no trouble," Alice said.

"I wasn't relishing being hit on by a notorious dictator," Polly said, "it almost feels like Hitler grabbed my knee, or Mussolini called me _baby_."

=/\=

Kevin reluctantly closed the Communications connection to Josie. The whole thing seemed so fragile. His Communicator chimed again. "Honey," he said, not bothering to find out who it was, "I'm working as fast as I can. I'll be home soon."

Carmen chuckled, "Darling," she said, "I didn't know you cared."

"Oh, sorry, Carmen. What's up?"

"I'm afraid your evening plans have been changed. Everyone must stay in now – I'll explain at our next meeting," she said, "the good news is that your Calafan engineer friend needs to stay in as well. So perhaps you'll just have your date in-house."

"Oh." He hadn't told her about Josie being restored. He hadn't told anyone – only Yilta had managed to get it out of him. "You, uh, you still need _Audrey_ up and runnin' in tip top shape?"

"It's entirely possible that we'll need her. I'd like to be prepared," she said, " _Audrey's_ a poor substitute for _Fluxy_ , but I don't see us as having much of a choice in the matter, Kevin."

"So I'll keep working on her. O'Connor out."

=/\=

Dan and Marisol were having dinner at a small, charming café in Rome. "This is nice," he said, "I know what you said, but it truly _is_ romantic."

"I'm not interested in talking about such things," she said, "I want to talk about offing Grant."

"Ah," he swallowed hard. Tom was a good friend of his. Was this the price he'd have to pay to be able to stay with the Perfectionists? "Do you think it's wise, to do that, Marisol?"

"I am tired of just sitting around. I need action," she complained, tapping her foot anxiously.

"We don't have any orders to do this, not from Milton, and not from Donald," Dan pointed out.

"So?" she shrugged. "Donald is ineffectual at best. And Milton is gone. The way I see it, that means we can do as we please."

=/\=

 _Games people play, you take it or leave it_

 _Things that they say, just don't make it right_

 _If I'm tellin' you the truth right now, do you believe it?_

 _Games people play in the middle of the night_

\- The Alan Parsons Project (Games People Play)


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

 _Crack that whip_

 _Give the past the slip_

 _Step on a crack_

 _Break your momma's back_

\- Devo (Whip It)

=/\=

As Bryce Unger had assured Carmen, the _USS Adrenaline_ was, indeed, moved. But what he did not know was that the ship ended up colliding with the colony entity.

No one on board the _Adrenaline_ felt or heard or saw a thing. The colony entity was so thinly and evenly spread out, it was perhaps a molecule wide, although it was over a kilometer across.

It was not harmed by the encounter. Rather, it was encouraged by it, and it polled its cells. They decided, by majority rule, to stay on the ship, at least for the nonce. It lurked and lingered in a cargo bay, marshaling its resources and trying to figure out what to do next.

=/\=

Kevin was still alone with _Audrey_. He engaged his implanted Communicator. "Josie – er, Jhasi – O'Connor, on Andoria."

"Kevin! Are you on your way home, sweetie?"

"No, I wish I was. I'm, I have to stay here."

"But when the line's restored, then you'll come straight home, right?"

He hesitated before answering her. How could he tell her that, once the line was restored, she would no longer exist? He would go home, to be sure, but it would be to an empty, lonely house.

"I, uh …"

"Kevin, what is it you're not telling me?" Josie's voice was tinged with a little fear.

"Josie, I …"

She sat alone in their home, amidst the photos of vacations and happy times, immersed in the pleasant minutiae of a good marriage. She had not, in particular, been looking to meet anyone when she had met Kevin. She was not looking for a commitment or a marriage. At the time, she was just looking for fun.

And Kevin had provided it in spades. He would play off an all-too nerdy engineering fanboy persona, and she found him hysterically funny.

They had gotten serious more rapidly than she had originally wanted. But she liked him a great deal, so she had allowed it. It wasn't until after they'd been married for over a year that he had finally confessed to her that, for him, it had been love at first sight.

They had wed, and heads would turn, as the near quarter-teragram part-reptile squired around a knockout Aenar who was perhaps one-quarter of his mass.

That much was true, in both the current reality, and in the true original history. But then, in late 3099, a divergence had occurred. In the original history, when Josie had worked as a kindergarten teacher, she had begun to feel unexplained fatigue. She was often not hungry. And then it became that she would reach for a PADD control to project a lesson onscreen and would, inexplicably, miss.

After the new year had begun, Kevin had taken her to doctor after doctor. Finally came the horrid diagnosis, on January fourteenth of 3100 – the self-destructive autoimmune disorder known as Piaris Syndrome.

First observed by Doctor Anton Piaris in 2864, the malady would start as a thinning of the myelin sheaths around nerves. Then it would erode muscles by converting normal lactic acid to lacto-hydrochloric acid. Medical science could only do so much to slow down the progression of the disease.

She had been given metallic bones and eventually a suit to slip over what was left of her. She had had a synthetic voice, projected in a manner much like a Voice Masker. But eventually the disease had offered up its final insult, by turning her neurons, slowly, to a gelatinous form. This caused brain damage and it broke Kevin's heart when she could no longer recognize him. Death came in late 3108.

But the alternate history – or, rather, histories – had been different. At first, in this iteration of alternate, misshapen history, she had been a maid in a high-class hotel and had never been sick a day in her life. Then, once the Deepwater Horizon platform was again exploded, her profession had changed to waitress in that same hotel, but nothing else – so far as she, personally was concerned – had been altered.

=/\=

They sat down to dinner in Cairo, as a feast was laid out before them. Rick sat next to Alice. "Do I like this stuff, dear?" he asked, playing up their sham marriage.

"Sure. You love quail," she said, "Don't you remember shooting one on our honeymoon in South Carolina?"

"That's right," he played along, "we went to Hilton Head and you wore that little bikini."

Polly cleared her throat. "You two kids have fun, but don't get too chummy here. I don't want my pal to return." She nodded slightly over toward Saddam, who was looking around for a place to sit. She scootched in closer.

"Not to worry, Mother," Alice said, "Richard here will defend your honor."

"I will?"

=/\=

"Kevin?" Josie was almost teary.

"I, God, I didn't want to tell you," he finally said, "but you, you're a part of the line being messed up."

"So this is not normal?" she hadn't even noticed being suddenly converted from a maid to a waitress. That, just like everything else about her life, seemed to have always existed precisely as it currently was. How could it possibly have ever been any different?

"No, I'm sorry, but it's not."

"But we're still married, right?"

"No."

"How could we have gotten a divorce?" she asked, "That's impossible."

"It, it wasn't a divorce."

That took a few moments to really sink in. "Oh, my. Uh, how, and when?"

"Are you sure you wanna hear?" he asked.

"Yes, I do. I want to know what's real. If this is an illusion, then it's a very pretty one but I want the truth from you."

He sighed deeply, then spoke. "It was, you were very sick, for a very long time. About a decade ago, you were diagnosed with Piaris."

"What is that?"

"It's a disease that only Aenar can get. Even Andorians are immune. But your species, unfortunately, man, it's a rough way to go."

"I see." She let that roll over in her mind a few times. "Was I, well, was I a difficult patient?"

"No, never," he said. "You were patient and kind even as everything just sort of withered away. It was all right when it was just, just physical things. You, you lost your voice, though, that wasn't easy. You used a synthetic one for a few years."

"Wow," she touched her own throat, feeling the vibrations from her own speech, "did I lose my mind?"

"You, at the end, you didn't know me. You didn't know anyone. You, you died maybe a month after that happened. It was 3108, the day right after Christmas. You, you didn't remember Christmas or turkey or carols or anything."

"That doesn't matter. What matters is that I didn't remember you. Oh, Kevin, I never meant to hurt you. I hope you know that. I would never try to hurt you."

"I know, Josie, and it was tough, not just because you didn't know me, but because you were so bewildered. I, I couldn't help you. No one could." He took a deep breath, and was surprised that he wasn't weeping. He felt awful, but for some reason he wasn't breaking down.

"So, in the correct timeline, I am gone for a year and a half or so?"

"Yes."

"Did you – have you – have you met anyone else?"

The question hung in the air for a moment. "You did, didn't you?" she asked. It wasn't an accusation, just an inquiry.

"Uh, yes, I did," he said, a little sheepishly.

"Kevin," she said, "I only want you to be happy. Please, please know that. I want you to, and for me this seems a crazy thing to be saying, but, Kevin, I _want_ you to fall in love again."

=/\=

 _When a problem comes along_

 _You must whip it_

 _Before the cream sits out too long_

 _You must whip it_

 _When something's going wrong_

 _You must whip it_

\- Devo (Whip It)


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

 _Now whip it_

 _into shape_

\- Devo (Whip It)

=/\=

In Cairo, the following day, the sun shone. It was a perfect day for a parade. "Well, this is it," Rick said, stretching and yawning. They had slept in the _Wells_. The women had shared the big bed; he'd made do with the pilot's chair.

"So far, I think she's working out pretty well," Polly said, referring to Alice. She noticed Rick staring and then quickly added, "She's in the shower; I doubt she can hear us."

"Ah, good. Polly, when we get back, can I talk to you a bit?"

"Of course."

"It's, uh, it's about someone I met in my travels."

"I see," she said, "I take it this is someone who's proven to be more important that you had originally thought she would be."

"That's it exactly," he said, "I can't get her out of my mind."

"Well, I can't promise that you'll forget her, or even that you'll feel better at all," Polly said, "but I can promise you that I'll listen."

"Thanks for being honest with me."

=/\=

"You really mean that?" Kevin asked.

"Listen," Josie said, "I don't want to be dead and I don't want you to be gone from our marriage. Kindly do not misunderstand me. But I think, well, it's an odd gift that you and I have been given here. I feel that we have a chance here. I suppose I have a chance to tell you what I would have always wanted to tell you, under such circumstances."

"And me," he said, "I have the chance to, again, tell you how much I love you."

=/\=

"You've gotta make this company," Sheilagh said to Larry and Sergey.

"Google's gonna be _huge,_ " HD concurred.

=/\=

"I refuse to kill Grant," Dan said, "and, furthermore, I refuse to let you do it, either."

"Oh, really?" asked Marisol, "How comfortable are you with information about your Section 31 work being broadcast around?"

"Talk all you want to," he called her bluff, "the Powers that Be know that I work for the Section. As for the rest of them, they're gonna figure that someone would be placed at the Commission. I don't care if you tell them. Go ahead. Knock yourself out."

"And if it comes out that you are a member of the Perfectionists' movement?"

"Go ahead," he repeated, "I've got plausible deniability," he exaggerated, but tried not to let that show, "Are you done? I've lost my appetite."

"Oh, I am enjoying myself," she said, smiling. "Waiter, another plate of gnocchi, please."

=/\=

They arrived at the parade on time. "We'll watch from here," Rick said, "and be sure to duck when the shooting starts. Bullets plus stem cell growth accelerator makes for a pretty painful combination."

"I don't think you'll have to remind either of us to duck," Polly said, "I get the feeling we'll do so without being told."

"Of course, I'm just making sure," he said, "over there, see?"

Alice scanned the area, "Where?"

"I can't point; it's too risky," he said, "But look straight ahead, and then around fifteen degrees to your left. See that guy?"

"Yeah," Alice said.

"He's Lieutenant Khalid Islambouli, the leader of the assassination squad. Get ready to duck," Rick said.

The shooting started, and Alice didn't have to duck. Instead, Rick and Polly saw her vanish.

The two of them stayed down until the shooting stopped, then slowly made their way back to a secluded area.

Polly said, "I don't think we'll need to confirm success," after they'd returned to the _Wells_.

"Probably not," Rick said, "I hope that theocracy is gone because of this."

"Me, too."

=/\=

It wasn't gone, but there was one change. Josie had been a maid at a high-class hotel and then, when Deepwater Horizon again exploded, she was abruptly and instantly converted into a waitress at that same hotel.

And now, with Anwar Sadat's death, she was suddenly the desk clerk at that same hotel.

=/\=

Dan got up and walked to an alley. He made sure no one was watching, and engaged his implanted Communicator. "Tom?"

"Yeah? I thought ya'll woulda forgotten about me, up here."

"Ha, no. I, uh, could you beam me up? I'm in a good location."

"I thought –"

"It's not happening," Dan said, trying to make it sound more like he'd struck out than that they'd had a difference of opinion about far more serious matters.

"All right," Tom said, "just gimme a sec."

=/\=

In 3110, Otra felt the time shift as the complete list of extinct birds was cut in half and the polluted air seemed to clear. She knew nothing of the changes in Josie O'Connor's fortunes.

But a check of present-day broadcasts revealed that the theocracy was still very much alive, but it had become centered on a little flying Catholic monastery called the _USS Saint Eligius_.

=/\=

And in 2192, Lili Reed came home to find her husband and their friends, Melissa Madden and Leonora Digiorno, in conversation about the ship they had seen earlier that day. "Do you hear from Tommy?" Lili asked as soon as she had said hello.

"I think life on the _Excelsior_ must be very busy," Melissa said, "ha, I sound like such a typical mother – he never calls me!" she joked. "I wish he'd come visit more often."

=/\=

Rick piloted as Polly sat nearby. "So, tell me about this woman," she finally said, "if you're feeling comfortable about talking about it right now."

"This is a good time," he agreed, "rounding 2050. Huh, well, I went to Prague and I was hit by a car."

"That's inauspicious."

"And she – Milena – she took me in and treated me."

"Richard, you didn't need treatment."

"You and I both know that. But she didn't. And here I was, this, this stranger, and she tried to treat me anyway. Well, of course she figured out that I was self-healing and that interested her."

"I suppose that would interest any curious person. Go on."

"She was a Holocaust survivor. Had the number tattooed on her arm and everything. And I have some Jewish ancestry, but it's far back and I guess I don't identify with it too much, but I found myself identifying with all of it."

"With her, though, and not with the faith, right?"

"With her, yes," he said, "I mean; I haven't turned religious or anything. It's more that I felt like, when the Borg come, they say that everyone's going to just assimilate, just acquiesce to their demands. It's their arrogance that they are going to win every time. It can be hard to be the rebellious minority. And she was a part of one, too, and so many of them went down swinging. But it was more than that; it was _her_. It was her sad smiles and her intelligence and her sense of humor. Her voice is in my head; her face is in my dreams. What the hell is it, Polly?"

"It's incurable, Daniels. You're in love."

=/\=

 _Shape it up_

 _Get straight_

 _Go forward_

 _Move ahead_

 _Try to detect it_

 _It's not too late_

\- Devo (Whip It)


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

 _To whip it_

 _Whip it good_

\- Devo (Whip It)

=/\=

Marisol returned to the _Jack_ when she was damned good and ready. Tom just glared at her. "We can't just stick around. Every day you dawdle, you risk making pariotric changes, yanno."

"Oh, it's fine," she said, "don't be so rigid. You're not in the military anymore."

"Maybe not," he said, "but we still need to be careful. Rounding 2217."

She sighed loudly.

"Are you _bored_ , Marisol?" Dan asked her pointedly.

"Unchallenged," she complained.

"Then pilot," Tom said, handing her the controls.

=/\=

"You are an amazing woman," Kevin said to Josie.

"I have nothing to lose," she said, "the whole thing continues to be odd to me. I just got up this morning, like always. It was just another day. And now, it is not. Tell me, do you think, somewhere, I exist in another reality?"

"There are an infinite number of universes," he said, "I bet you're alive and well in most of 'em."

"And I am in love with you in all of them."

=/\=

"You gotta make Google," HD insisted.

"You seem rather sure of yourselves," Sergey said, "we're living off ramen and the good graces of our families. The company, such as it is, exists in a garage not too far from here."

"Have faith," Sheilagh said, "for you are going to be billionaires."

"With a _B_?" Larry Page asked.

"Yep," she replied.

Sergey whistled through his teeth, "You're not just giving us the BS, right? I mean, you gotta understand – this is exactly what anyone with a startup company wants to know and hear."

"I know," she said, "and I probably sound like an insane prophet, like I should be one of those people who carries around a sign that says that the world's going to end, or something. But it won't, and you are going to hit it big."

" _Really_ big," HD concurred.

"You believe them?" Sergey asked Larry, completely ignored HD and Sheilagh.

"I have no idea," Larry replied, "but we've got nothing to lose."

=/\=

And, just like that, the timeline was restored, and Kevin lost the connection to Josie forever.

=/\=

While Marisol piloted and Tom angrily watched her, Dan went into the back of the _Jack_ and began, again, to think about his lot in life. It was not just the unfairness of it all. It was not just the confusion. It was not just his mixed loyalties.

It was also – he was finding that all he was doing was to put back nasty timelines. And the changes were no better. For every alteration caused some sort of problem. Some of those problems were truly horrific – he certainly didn't wish to live under such an oppressive theocracy. But beating the theocracy went hand in hand with making sure that Deepwater Horizon exploded, and that Anwar Sadat – a man who was trying to embrace peace when all around him were gearing up for war – was assassinated.

It was unfair and it was hurtful. It made his skin crawl with anger and disgust. He sat in the little bedroom. He had gone there, claiming a slight headache and the need for sleep, but it was, rather, the need for solitude.

"What am I doing?" he moaned softly to himself, "Where am I going with this? Everything I do is wrong. Everything is worthless. Nothing is right."

He got up and went over to the replicator and got it to produce a fifth of bourbon. "So this is how you cope, Carmen?" he said to no one, back in the bedroom. "I'm not even a drinker, but I can definitely see the attraction." He tipped the fifth back and drank as much as he could of it in one shot, then swallowed and then drank the remainder. Stem cell growth accelerator did absolutely nothing to put off, change or diminish drunkenness. It only made it possible for him to recover. That was a good thing, too, for he had drunk enough to pass out permanently.

Instead, his nervous system on overload, he blacked out on the floor next to the bed, and stayed there until the _Jack_ arrived at the Temporal Integrity Commission, several hours later.

=/\=

At the Commission, there were multiple bonging sounds, layering on top of each other. Kevin sighed and dropped what he was doing, which was allegedly working on _Audrey_. He straightened up and began heading over to Carmen's office, trying not to let his sadness show.

=/\=

There was, though, one strange little quirk of timeline restoration. Due to the theft of the master time file, the temporal force field had been damaged. They were all susceptible to changes, although they were unaware of that. Deirdre heard a Communications chime in her ear, and answered it. "Hey, baby," said an overly familiar male voice, "I was thinking, come on over tonight, and we'll maybe go somewhere pretty and have a picnic, okay?"

It was Bruce Ishikawa. In the original history, they had been going out for months. They were in love, everything was wonderful. Both sets of parents were pushing for an engagement already. Everyone wanted to see a 3111 wedding.

But the master time file had been affected because time itself had been affected – and Deirdre, now, too, could be affected. And so she replied, "Who the hell are you?"

=/\=

Yilta caught up with Kevin as he walked in the hallways. "We heard the restoration sounds," she said, "but we've also been told we have gotta stay in a lot more now. Have you heard specifics yet? Some sort of threat from beyond our galaxy."

"Oh? I haven't heard it yet," he stopped for a moment.

"Somethin' wrong?"

"No, uh, with the line completely restored, Josie's gone again," he said.

"I imagine Darywev is back to being my ex, too," she replied.

"Probably. This whole situation is hard to take. It really pulls your heart apart, like taffy."

"Taffy? I don't know what that is," she said.

"Never mind. It just feels like it's this horribly hurtful thing. I, uh," he faced her; "you make it easier to take."

She leaned over and kissed him. "Ya do as well."

=/\=

 _When a good time turns around_

 _You must whip it_

 _You will never live it down_

 _Unless you whip it_

\- Devo (Whip It)


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

 _No one gets their way_

 _Until they whip it_

\- Devo (Whip It)

=/\=

"Conference room six, everyone," Carmen sent a generalized message to the entire group once all of the time travelers had returned. "There's lots to talk about."

Marisol ignored the call, and instead cornered Boris. "I have an errand to run. You will cover for me," she said.

"And if I refuse?"

"My errand is to go to Kronos to meet a lovely lady who is in charge of a Klingon sports arena. Might you know who that is?"

"My wife," he said, beginning to sweat something fierce.

"That's right. And our conversation will be about all manner of pleasantries. If you don't wish for it to turn to a discussion of you and how much you enjoy unconventional sex, I suggest you agree to cover me like the good little boy you are," she said, "Ta."

She sauntered away, exaggerated movements, and he felt his stomach turn into a ball of concrete.

=/\=

They began to assemble in the conference room. The time travelers mainly just looked tired. "Where's Alice?" Carmen asked.

"When we restored our part of the timeline," Polly said, "she disappeared."

"Crystal, check, see if she's intact, er, somewhere," Carmen said.

"Of course."

"How was she?" Carmen asked.

"There must've been a bit of a restoration while we were working, because she suddenly turned into someone who wasn't prejudiced. It was very strange," Rick said, "she ended up being pretty good. Polly here was hit on."

"Ugh, don't remind me," Polly said, "I don't enjoy being, apparently, catnip to dictators."

"Ah, I've got it," Crystal said, "looks like she's fine. Back where she was before."

"Excellent," Carmen said.

Kevin came in and sat next to Deirdre, "So, how's Bruce?" he asked.

"Who?"

"Don't play coy with me, Miss Katzman. The guy you keep making baby talk with over the Communicator when you think I'm not listening," he said.

"I have no idea who you're talking about," Deirdre said.

Everyone else stopped what they were doing and saying. "Why is everyone staring?" Deirdre asked.

"Are you joking around with us?" Sheilagh asked.

"N-no."

"And you _really_ don't know who Bruce Ishikawa is?" HD asked.

"Someone with that name called. He was very inappropriate. Called me _baby_. I don't know who that was. I, I don't want some stranger to call me _baby_."

"Deirdre, listen to me very carefully," Rick said, "are you definitely _not_ kidding around?"

"I'm not!"

"You never, ever heard of that guy?" Rick asked.

"Quit asking me that," she said, hurt, "no. I don't know who the hell he is."

"And for the last, what, year I think it is, have you even had a boyfriend?" he asked.

"No, and I'd rather not talk about it, if it's all the same to you. I'm a bit sensitive about that."

"I'm sorry I brought it up," he said.

"Oh boy," Carmen sighed, "I know what this means, and I don't like it one iota. And this isn't even why I've called all of you here in the first place. But first, this. Ladies and gentlemen, this is truly a problem. I am forced to conclude that the master time file was accessed and probably copied – I assume by the Perfectionists."

"How do you figure that from just talking to Deirdre?" Crystal asked.

"We – and the master time file", Kevin said, "we're protected by the same temporal force field. Get to it – pierce that veil – and you can not only access the master, you can also mess up any of us. It's probably not intentional. I doubt the Perfectionists wanted to cause Deirdre here any heartache. But they're like a bull in a china shop when it comes to everything else, so why should this be any different?"

"What does that mean for us as individuals?" Dan asked, still a bit drunk and that was beginning to mix with what promised to be a devil of a hangover.

"A breach of the force field in one area means a breach everywhere," Levi said.

"So none of us are perfectly protected from temporal changes. If our own families are wiped," Rick said, "there is a possibility that we will end up being wiped as well."

"It also means that our memories are no longer trustworthy," Carmen said, "our minds are no longer our own."

"It's like we've all been afflicted with early stage Irumodic Syndrome." Deirdre said. "And I guess I'm showing the symptoms first. Oh, man. I guess that guy Bruce is pretty mad at me."

=/\=

In 2192, the four of them still stood outside Malcolm and Lili's house on Lafa II. Leonora finally said, "We were wondering, Lili, if you could go to sleep and try to make contact with the mirror. You might be able to find out what's happening with that ship."

"Or warn them if it's something dire," Melissa offered.

"I could," Lili said, "I haven't contacted the mirror in quite a while."

"I don't suppose you forget how," Malcolm said, "and I shall stay awake and watch over you, my love."

"Maybe all three of us should," Leonora said, "assuming you can get to sleep with three people watching you."

"I'll be fine," Lili said, "it's a side effect of being over eighty years old. You can nap pretty much whenever you like."

They walked into the house and into the master bedroom. "I shall be right here," Malcolm said, "and shall listen to you as you talk in your sleep. If you seem to be in any distress, we shall awaken you."

"Keep in mind that if you make physical contact," Lili said, "you might just end up joining the dream, even if you're technically awake."

"A noise would wake you, though, right?" Melissa asked.

"Yes, it would. I guess I'll see about contacting High Priestess Yimar."

"That's probably the best plan," Leonora said, "Pleasant dreams."

"I hope so," Lili said.

Malcolm leaned over and kissed her. "Be with who you desire."

=/\=

"Maybe we should talk about why you initially wanted us to gather together," Polly suggested.

"Yeah," Deirdre said, "I'll, um, I'll see if I can make amends when we're done. Tell that guy I was joking or something. He's a good guy, and I'm happy?"

"Yes, and yes," Crystal said.

"Very well," Carmen said, scanning the room. "Where the hell is Marisol?"

"She is," Boris began, "I am, er, unsure. I suspect she failed to check messages prior to leaving the premises."

"Should we wait for her?" Otra asked.

Carmen just engaged her Communicator. "Calavicci to Castillo."

There was no answer. "Maybe the breach that took out some of Deirdre's memory also took out Marisol," Dan offered.

"Possibly," Boris said, a little hopeful that that was the case. It was surely help him if Marisol were out of the picture.

=/\=

On Kronos, Marisol arrived via Transporter, a stranger in a strange land, much like any other stranger or any other land. She made her way to the Yarin home and rang the door chime. "Coming!" came a woman's voice from within.

The door opened and Darragh Stratton Yarin was a lovely blonde with an aristocratic air. Boris had been feeding Marisol a line when he had said his wife was no longer attractive. That was, most assuredly, not true.

"Are you Darragh Yarin?" Marisol asked.

"I am. And you?"

"A friend," Marisol said, "with news about your husband."

"My husband?"

"Yes. He is, shall we say," Marisol chose her next words carefully, "he looks at other women."

"So do lots of men. I've got no time for this."

"He does more than look at times."

"What the hell do you know?" Darragh demanded.

"I know things," Marisol said, "some of them might interest you but I would like to make an exchange."

"An exchange?"

"Yes," Marisol said, "I understand you've got all sorts of properties throughout the galaxy. I'd like you to acquire one more, but give me exclusive access to it."

"And what happens if I say no?" Darragh was just about ready to grab her Communicator and call the authorities.

"Your brother, he has a fine Federation post. Very high up. A scandal would not do him any good. And the same with you. You are respected and trusted by any number of interesting groups. They'll stop trusting you. And then, of course, you're a woman who does not like being made a fool. I can confirm your husband's infidelities. It will be incontrovertible. He will have no leg to stand on and your divorce will be perfectly slanted in your favor. He will get nothing, absolutely nothing."

"I'm listening."

=/\=

 **On the Defiant, in 2192, Empress Hoshi ran a finger along Milton's chin and then his throat. "With just one little slip of my dagger, I can make this a very, very bad day for you."**

" **But it's been going so well," he said, "Patience, my dear. You'll see how the time ship works. But not yet. As they say, ironically in my biz – all in good time."**

=/\=

 _I say whip it_

 _Whip it good_

\- Devo (Whip It)

 _ **Next: Part VII: Shake Your Body**_


End file.
